Of love, art and dreams coming true (I)

Today I had one of those moments. I cried of joy while I was holding a wide smile on my face.

When I was 17 years old I fell in love with an image. It was a picture inside my History of Art book from 3rd year of high school, part of the “Byzantin Art” lesson and it was surrounded by all this theory about the originality of the building mixing a basilical ground and a round, about the semi spherical dome and the pendentives that support the weight and a lot of other technical aspects of art and architecture.

But when I saw the image of the interior I just wanted to be there and feel the magnificence of it, feeling my insignificance inside that wonder. As it happens with love, you feel an energy in one moment, a connexion, a deep understanding.

And then I went to a dark moment as the the syllabus went on with the Moorish Art in Spain and the Romanesque style. But then, as life, I moved on when the Gothic Art made his elegant appearance in the artistic scene and decided that my favorite artistic period in architecture was Gothic. And so, as in life, I forgot about that special basilica, church, mosquee., that amazing mixture and superposition of cultures coexisting together.

However, when today I went inside the basilica, now turned wisely into a museum mainly to avoid the frictions between both religions, the Muslim and the Catholic, claiming its ownership, all the emotions came back.

Because what happen with love is that, as an energy, never disappears, it might be channeled into other paths but is always there, in some part of the brain and the heart. So when I crossed the door to go into the building all the memories of the emotions provoked by looking that image came vivid again. First came that reassuring sensation of pettiness that puts you in your place and makes you realize that no problem or disappointment is important enough if you put it inside the bigger context. And then I felt in peace. I felt light.

The crush I experienced around fifteen years ago was  as intense and strong as if it were the day after. Overwhelmed by the darkness and the exceptional play of lights that makes the place surreal. The height of the dome that seems to be floating. The husked paintings showing the wisdom of the age.

And there, under the dome, conquered by the beauty and significance of the place, the emotions, the realization of having a dream come true, my eyes welled up with tears. There was joy, there was love, there was a bliss

2 thoughts on “Of love, art and dreams coming true (I)

  1. Maria – such a nice story! Dreams do indeed come true – did you feel like you had already been here before? The magic and love you felt in that one moment – how do we try to bring that into every other part of our life:) ?

    What other images did you read about in history books growing up? lol

    • I felt that magic because I had that feeling I already knew the place thanks to the picture and because I was fulfilling a dream. I wish I knew how to bring that magic more often into our lives, but I guess that implies a daily effort to do things that causes emotions.

      There are still few places left in my memory from History and Arts books, so I guess that as long as I keep moving I’ll experience this again 🙂

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