The Original Hoarders

I recently visited the Bowers Museum in Santa Ana for an exhibit called “Warriors, Tombs, and Temples: China’s Enduring Legacy.” I was excited about the visit for two reasons; first, I kind of forget the Bowers Museum exists, since I usually head to the Getty when I’m in a museum-going mood, and whenever I do go, I am always reminded of what a wonderful museum it is (although too expensive to visit often). And second, I really don’t know anything about Chinese history or culture and was excited to learn some new things from the exhibit.

What drew me there were the famous life-size terra cotta warriors, but other than that I wasn’t sure what to see or expect. The exhibit was organized chronologically and walked visitors through three of China’s most important dynasties—the Qin, Han, and Tang dynasties—and it did this through the treasures found in imperial tombs and temples.

I liked that the exhibit started with the terra cotta warriors from the Qin Dynasty because I was eager to see them first. Over 8,000 soldiers have been excavated in the pits, but only a few were on display (obvi). They are from the mausoleum complex of China’s first emperor, Qin Shihuangdi, which is regarded as the eighth wonder of the world. When I looked closely, I could still see some of the ancient paint on the warriors’ faces and garments. Every single warrior was painted and looked unique; studies show that eight face molds were used and then clay was added to provide individualized facial features. There were also kneeling archers on display—so intricately created that I could see details of their braids, clothing, fingernails, and even the tread on their shoes. There was also a life-size horse that was originally attached to a chariot, looking ready for battle. I was struck by how well-preserved these ancient figures were. Can you imagine what this army must have looked like in antiquity? Wow…

As we walked through the Qin Dynasty into the Han Dynasty, I noticed a marked difference in the terra cotta warriors from the tomb compound of the Han emperors (Gaozu and Jingdi)—they were smiling! They’re also about 1/3 life-size, so they were very cute, especially compared to the macho life-size mean-looking Qin Dynasty warriors. Did you know that women were known to dress as male warriors in the Han army? Mulan was the most famous—she took the place of her aging father and became a war hero after 12 years of service. Other objects from the Han tombs included figures of a dancer and an attendant. The figures were so detailed and in antiquity would have worn silk and hemp clothing. Great care was taken to make them as authentic as possible to be effective protectors and companions in the afterlife. The objects from the Han Dynasty painted a vivid picture of the peace and prosperity of the time.

Lastly, the exhibit leads to tomb treasures from the Tang Dynasty, a rich time in Chinese history because of the wealth brought into China from the Silk Road. The Tang Dynasty marked a golden age of poetry and the arts in China. There were a lot of interesting artifacts in this section of the exhibit, including a mural depicting a polo match, which struck me as being so odd. I thought polo was just western prepster nonsense. But apparently the ancient Chinese courts fancied it as well, after it was imported from Persia. There were also gold, silver, and jeweled treasures from the treasure-crypt of the Famen Monastery, a Buddhist site that was sealed in 874 and rediscovered in 1987. The site was founded with the historical Buddha’s finger bone, and the reliquaries are on display. By the way, did you know that Buddhism was imported to China from India?!

So, why did the Chinese stuff their mausoleums with so many things? Why did they hoard all this amazing treasure in their tombs and stuff it in with their dead? These objects were meant for protection, companionship, and entertainment for those in the next life. They ensured a comfortable, safe, and extravagant afterlife. It’s amazing how much insight we can gather from looking at these artifacts about ancient China—how they fought, what they wore, how they entertained, what they valued, their religious beliefs, even their humor.

The Chinese believed in ancestor worship and that people still existed even after death and needed to be buried with objects they'd need for the afterlife. Reverence was expressed by burying them with proper rituals and symbols and objects to attract good fortune. I wonder what I would want buried with me if I believed as they did…

I wish I had taken pictures, but you'll have to just go yourself to experience the exhibit, which runs through March 4th…get your tickets here.

David, the Giant

One of the defining moments of David’s early life was the fateful day that he battled and defeated the Philistine warrior Goliath in the Valley of Elah. David’s triumph over the champion from Gath has been immortalized in countless works of art, but none of them are as famous as the sculpture of David depicted by the High Renaissance master, Michelangelo. This, friends, is a masterpiece.

On our second day in Florence, we walked in the golden light of the late afternoon sun to the Galleria dell'Accademia, where David has stood since 1873. As you enter the museum and turn the corner, you find yourself at the beginning of a long hallway with the sculpture waiting for you at the end. I can't imagine anyone's response being less than a jaw-drop, a breathy “wow,” and complete awe. I have never been so moved by a work of art in my life.

Ironically, Florentines actually refer to David as "The Giant." Michelangelo’s monumental sculpture was the first nude to be carved on such a colossal scale since antiquity. Seriously, the most startling aspect of the sculpture was its towering size! David stands seventeen feet tall, which is eight feet taller than Goliath's height is recorded in the Bible (he was said to be six cubits and a span, which is near 9’9” tall)!

Michelangelo chose to depict David before the battle. His protruding muscles and swollen veins are taut and tense, as though adrenaline is starting to pump power through his restless body. His flexed torso, sturdy limbs, and oversized hands and feet reveal the strength we are to expect from him. He seriously looked so real, I could have sworn I saw him breathing. Hayley and I actually joked that we were waiting for him to move, and maybe wink at us...

A cool thing about Michelangelo's David is that it's not a self-contained composition; David’s head is abruptly turned and he seems to be emotionally connected to a presence that we do not see. And if you stand in the right spot, you can find yourself between David and his foe. He is not a static, relaxed figure; there is anxiety in his alert eyes, and he is standing casually to disguise his fear. He is ready to face the killer who had slayed every Israelite who had previously been sent into battle. Sometimes it's easy to forget that David was just a vulnerable adolescent who had no business slaying a giant! He had never been in battle, never carried a sword, never worn the uniform of the Israeli army...clearly, his success in battle was not a testament to his brutish strength or superior intelligence, but to his faith in God. In Psalm 108, David wrote “With God we will gain the victory…” What a great reminder to always acknowledge that it is God who brings victory, not our own strength or determination.

God also reminds us through David’s life that he judges his followers by their character and not their appearance. The Lord said to Samuel, “...man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). Michelangelo was commissioned by the city of Florence to create this sculpture from a poorly blocked out slab of marble that had been abandoned a generation earlier because of a dangerous flaw in the marble. Michelangelo was to “make, carry through and complete” it. He saw David in the marble and set him free. God also sees who we are below the “marble” that we try to cover ourselves and identify ourselves with, be it success, wealth, power, or fame. God looks at the heart.

David is such a popular subject in art history--why? He's complex. He's a paradox--the beautiful sculptures and paintings throughout history that depict his likeness reveal a hero, but a follower of Christ who has read about his life in the Old Testament also understands how broken and flawed he was, and that it was his faith in God that made him truly great. Charles Swindoll wrote that “Our world is desperately in need of models worth following. Authentic heroes. People of integrity, whose lives inspire us to do better, to climb higher, to stand taller.” David is just that—an authentic hero. The Bible does not make any pretenses about his failures and does not hide them; he's recognized as a flawed human, one who has made poor decisions in his life and suffered the consequences for them--something everyone can relate to. Yet, he is respected and remembered as a godly hero, and followers of Christ look to him as an example of how to cry out to God and how to rely on him continually in the midst of desperate circumstances.

The toughest situations that David found himself in were some of the most important moments of his life. In 2 Samuel 22: 2-3, he wrote “The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my rock in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge…” David recognized that the living God was his security and support. These verses encourage me when I am exhausted and enduring my own battles to acknowledge the active God in my life the way that David did.

David had giant faith in the Lord and reminds us that in our weakness, in our times of confusion and uncertainty, we can take refuge in him. I love this sculpture with all my heart. It's not just stunningly beautiful to look at. It reminds me of David's character, and that his humility, integrity, and authenticity are what I want God to grow me in today.

Exploring Florence

My favorite Italian city, after Rome, has to be Florence. This place is pure Renaissance and one of the most beautiful cities I've ever visited. Nine years ago when I was here, circumstances beyond my control (pouring rain, long lines, limited time) crushed my plan (and a little bit of my soul) of visiting David, so I was ecstatic to finally see him on this trip. In fact, the night before we visited the Galleria dell'Accademia, I cried a little bit in my bed thinking about finally being able to see him in the flesh, so to speak...

We started our trip back in time to Renaissance Florence by visiting Santa Croce, begun in 1294. On the outside, this is a pretty unassuming building in Florence, as beautiful as its marble facade is (above). But inside, it's pretty much the Westminster Abbey of Italy and home to the tombs of some of Italy's most famous men--Machiavelli, Dante, Galileo, and Michelangelo, to name a few. The church also has beautiful frescoes by Giotto, who is often called the father of modern painting--his use of perspective was ahead of its time, he combined portraiture and landscape in totally new ways, and he was one of the first artists to use blue to color the sky. Giotto's pictorial decoration aimed to instruct the poor/illiterate on redemption and the lives of the saints. There are also beautiful stained glass windows and altarpieces inside the church.

Central nave of Santa Croce...

...with its beautiful Gothic arches.

This is Michelangelo's tomb, designed by Vasari in 1570. No big deal. The bust is a portrait of Michelangelo and the three sculptural figures sitting around the tomb represent Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, since Michelangelo did it all.

Inscription on the tomb.

These are two frescoes by Giotto, the Apparition of St. Francis and the Death of St. Francis. It's hard to capture the solemn intensity of these frescoes, but they were so beautiful and moving.

Hayley and I spent a lot of time in this square, just hanging out and watching people. One of the things I enjoyed about Florence was that although it was full of people and gearing up for a big holiday in honor of the city's patron saint (St. John), it never seemed uncomfortably crowded, intimidating, rushed, or overwhelming. In Venice and Rome, personal space was often nonexistent and an elbow might have been jabbed into a rib cage here or there as we fought our way through churches or museums. But Florence encourages relaxing and wandering. There are only a few main squares and they're all close to each other, so meandering around the compact city is easy.

Anyway, this square is called Piazza della Signoria. There are statues all over the square commemorating the city's history. The statue above is the Fontana di Nettuno, a fountain of Neptune surrounded by water nymphs.

This is Cellini's Perseus and Medusa.

Don't get too excited just yet...this is a copy of David. But this is where the real David originally stood until 1873.

Our first night in Florence, we had a delicious pizza dinner. (Oh, and that's Diet Coke, in case you're wondering.) Our second night? McDonald's!

This is me trying not to have an excitement-induced seizure in front of the Uffizi, the most amazing museum in Italy. The paintings here are unbelievable and so, so famous--Titian's Venus of Urbino, Caravaggio's Bacchus, and of course, Boticelli's Birth of Venus and Primavera, just to name a few. I had the best time here.

This is the Ponte Vecchio, the oldest bridge in Florence, built in 1345. It crosses the Arno River and is lined with shops. Most of them sell gold jewelry.

I felt like I was in medieval times on this bridge with its flags. It was so cute.

Ponte Vecchio. (Gosh, I love shutters.)

This is the marble facade of the front entrance to the Duomo. The exterior of the Duomo reminds me of the facade of It's a Small World at Disneyland. I don't know if that's tragic of kind of funny.

The orange-tiled dome of the Duomo is the symbol of Florence, and the city's tallest building. It was designed by Brunelleschi.

In front of the Duomo.

From left to right is the Baptistry, the Duomo, and the Campanile (bell tower), designed by Giotto in 1334.

Just some cool, giant, awesome looking doors on the side of the Duomo.

These are the famous east doors of the Baptistry. Why are they famous? I'm so glad you asked...

Andrea Pisano had made a pair of bronze doors for the Baptistry in 1300-1330, but in 1401 sculptors were invited to compete in making a second pair of doors. This was pretty much the first public competition in the history of art! And the winner was...Lorenzo Ghiberti! An impressed Michelangelo called them the Gates of Paradise. The perspective and detail used in each panel is incredible. Each square tells an Old Testament story. The doors were given a place of honor on the Baptistry--they face the cathedral.

For lunch--insalata capresa, my absolute favorite. Squisito!

After lunch we headed to the Galleria dell'Accademia, founded in 1563, to visit David. David is a colossal statue (17 feet tall!) and was commissioned by the city for Piazza della Signoria, but he was moved here in 1873 for safekeeping. There are other important art collections at the Accademia, but no ones cares because they're too busy looking at David.

I'm not going to say much about him because he's getting his own post, but...wow.

I'm a Good Person!!!

Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo, Vatican.

So...here's the thing.

I feel like it's kind of important--if not just plain American--to know why a rule exists. Which is why I blatantly ignored the NO FOTO signs in Italian museums.

Don't get me wrong--I am not some renegade who makes questioning authority a hobby or regularly practices lawbreaking. I'm not trying to make any sort of blanket statement or stick it to The Man here. I am generally a law-abider and rule-obliger. But...I just have never been given a good enough reason not to take pictures (especially sans flash) in museums. As an art history major, I like to think my reverence for invaluable masterpieces is superior to the average Joe Tourist's, but even I am not convinced of the whole "flash damages the paintings" or "it's for copyright reasons" nonsense. Don't they (the vague, accusatory "they"...) understand how much self-control I am already exercising by not touching anything?

I believe the real reason we are not allowed to take photos in many museums is because they want us to buy photos--in the form of books, postcards, mugs, toilet paper--in the gift shop. Which I do anyway. The problem is that you can't put those on facebook or make slideshows with them. Plus, I am the ultimate consumer of museum store crap. Mona Lisa nightlight? Check. Monet umbrella? Got one. My faithful patronage of the art world should garner some privileges.

Primavera by Boticelli, the Uffizi in Florence.

The Birth of Venus by Boticelli, the Uffizi in Florence.

Michelangelo's David, the Accademia in Florence.

Enough complaining. I actually just wanted to share my forbidden photos with you. These are some photos of the great masterpieces of the world that you are not allowed to take photos of...seriously. I have seen people police-escorted out of the Sistine Chapel for taking pics. I have been sternly yelled at for snapping pictures when I shouldn't have. The stakes were high, my friends...these took skill. Strategy. Timing. Human shields.

I just hope the Italian government doesn't read my blog...

Michelangelo's Pieta

Art has played a huge role in the way that I think about things, particularly my faith. To me, one of the most interesting things about Jesus were the seemingly mutually exclusive assertions that he was fully God and fully human. Now, how do you portray that in a painting or sculpture? Put yourself in an artist’s shoes…how would you depict someone as both fully man and fully God?

The life of Jesus has completely dominated the subject matter of Christian art from Roman times to the present day. One of the most important works of art in the world is Michelangelo’s Pieta (which I get to visit next month!). While you can find art depicting Jesus in countless ways, Michelangelo’s Pieta focuses on the humanity of Christ, as his lifeless body lays in the hands of his mother, after being taken off the cross.

The sculpture was commissioned in 1498. At that time, Michelangelo was still young and unknown; the Pieta immediately made him famous—in his early twenties (way to kill my self-esteem, Mic)! The sculpture is now in St. Peter’s in Rome.

Look at Mary’s face. It seems much younger than her son’s. Her face is youthful and peaceful, framed by the delicate folds of her robe. She looks timeless, leaning slightly over the lifeless body of Christ. Until the 15th Century, the subject of the pieta was almost exclusively found in northern Europe; the frightening figure of Jesus and Mary, often disfigured in her grief, seemed to distress people attending worship into an awareness of Christ’s sacrifice.

Michelangelo changed this subject completely. He does not emphasize Mary’s grief, but reveals to us a mother accepting fate with a look of spiritual and physical beauty. Michelangelo once wrote, “If life pleases us, death, being made by the hands of the same creator, should not displease us.” That sentiment is reflected in his sculpture. The only slight sign of Mary’s sorrow is her outstretched left hand. Instead of correlating the concept of the Redemption with grief, Mary generates a mood of classical serenity.

The body of Christ is life-sized, but Mary is much larger. If she were to stand, she would be around seven feet tall, although her head is the same size as Christ’s! Part of what makes this composition so astounding is that the unusual proportions go unnoticed by the viewer. The body of the dead Christ displays a keen knowledge of anatomy—the proportions, veins, muscles; the 16th-Century artist Vasari wrote that “No corpse could more completely resemble the dead than does this.” Michelangelo certainly succeeded in depicting in marble a body that reminds believers that Jesus suffered physically and died, that he had the same physical limitations as other humans. It seems that the only thing that one could interpret as divine about this depiction of Christ are his veins—one could interpret the protruding veins as still pumping with life, and therefore giving the viewer a glimpse of hope that Christ will rise again in three days. Though dead, he is still alive, hinting at the fact that this is not an ordinary man. Still, the humanity of Christ is emphasized here—there are no halos, angels, golden heavenly light, or thrones. All the viewer sees is a lifeless body, the body of a frail human, who made his dwelling among the rest of humanity; we also “see” his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth (John 1:14). Colossians 2:9 reads, “For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form…” Michelangelo had an extensive knowledge of anatomy and created the nude figure of Christ in that bodily form, as the very epitome of man—a figure in which there was no need, as he put it, "to make the human disappear behind the divine."

Michelangelo’s Pieta is, in my opinion, the most beautiful sculpture in the world. The serenity on Mary’s face, as she cradles the body of her lifeless son in her arms, is hauntingly beautiful. A work of deep piety, this sculpture reminds me that pain was a condition of redemption, but beauty is one of its consequences. The lucidity of Christ’s body in the lap of Mary reminds me that Christ “poured out his life” and “bore the sin of many.” (Isaiah 53:12) I am reminded of the extent of God’s love, but also the severity of my own sins. I am also reminded that Jesus came to earth, “but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” (Philippians 2:7) The redemption that Christ offers us is a reality and is available to us, for “it was not merely a finite human, but an infinite God who died.” This masterpiece is so beautiful and unforgettable that for most people, the term “pieta” evokes only the Pieta of St. Peter’s, because of the way that it speaks uniquely to every believer’s heart.

Jane Austen TOMS

My sweet friend Brooke is one of the most talented artists I know (check out her work here). The girl loves painting and everyone at Crave loves giving her their TOMS shoes to spiff up. I asked Brooke if she'd paint mine, and here they are! She included the first line from Pride and Prejudice, which is one of my favorite books. It's also one of the most famous first lines of any novel, ever..."It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man, in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." Kind of a funny line for me to ask to be put on a pair of shoes, but I just love the nod to Jane, and they turned out great!

Garnier

This is not a post about shampoo. This is a post about an amazing O.C.-based photographer named Jacques Garnier. But if you want, you can say his name in that same coy half-whisper that they do in the shampoo commercials.

I had an incredible opportunity to interview Garnier for The O.C. Gazette's August issue.

Click here to read my article about Jacques and his 15-year documentary photography project of the El Toro Marine Base. And check out his website here to look at his amazing photographs.

Seriously, you'll be shocked at how beautiful these photographs are. I have always seen the base as an eyesore, but Garnier's pictures, like all great art, challenges you to see something more....

Thoughts

A room hung with pictures is a room hung with thoughts.

--Joshua Reynolds

A Beautiful Mind

The Getty has an incredible collection of Leonardo da Vinci’s notes and sketches on exhibit through June 20th. They are absolutely fascinating…I’ve never seen anything like them.

No longer must we guess about what went through the mind of Leonardo. Pages and pages of his revolutionary thoughts are on display, showing his studies of anatomy, sketches of robots and machines, diagrams, face studies, and notes. They are such intimate things to look at, especially considering the great care he took to guard his notes; he knew his thoughts were coveted and his knowledge treasured. On some of the pages you can see how he concealed some of his ideas with ink smudges.

I doubt that Leonardo ever sat around during a three-day weekend and found himself bored. It’s obvious that he found the world indefatigably fascinating, and he studied and explored the things he found interesting. Just one sheet of notes includes such varied subjects as a diagram for a water clock, a sketch of a costume, and a diagram of the human esophagus and stomach. Another page shows a drawing by one of Leonardo’s students, and Leonardo’s correction drawn over part of the sketch in pen. (Could you imagine being Leonardo’s student?! No pressure!)

A funny thing about Leonardo…he always wrote down the same phrase when he was testing out a new pen—“Tell me if ever.” This phrase has been found over fifty times in his writing. What do you write down when you test a new pen? I used to write down the sentence “I will return my homework on time.” (Always thinking of Bart writing on the chalkboard during the opening credits of The Simpsons while I did so.)

Leonardo’s handwriting is gorgeous. His Italian looked swiftly yet meticulously scratched down, and was written from left to right (he was left-handed). It’s beautiful to look at (I would love it as wallpaper) and I think only rivals the beauty of Jane Austen’s script. Just for fun, you can use a handwriting generator to copy his handwriting here.

Leonardo wrote that “Learning never exhausts the mind.” He must have not been in seminary. (Joke!) Seriously, I love how curious he was and how he relished learning about the world. I love that he used his knowledge to create beautiful things. I would have loved to have known him; the most interesting people I know are the ones who are interested...in things, in people, in life.

New ARTicle

Check out May's issue of the OC Gazette for my article featuring OC artist Brian Lindstrom of Newbaric Designs. AND...check out his website because he posts a new design daily, and they're amazing! The above design was to announce the article. So cool, right?!

What Child Is This?

You've probably seen a little version of this Italian Baroque masterpiece on the top right corners of many an envelope this year. Every Christmas, the U.S. Postal Service releases fun collections of holiday stamps. They also issue a “traditional” holiday stamp that features the Madonna and Child, which has been an annual practice since 1978. This year, the traditional stamp featured this painting by Sassoferrato.

The first time I saw it, I had to stop and stare…

Mary tenderly cradles the Christ child in her arms, holding him with elegance and grace, softly resting her cheek on the top of his head while two sweet cherubs look down upon them with devotion. It’s a simple composition—there is no backround, only a few clouds that create a timeless, eternal setting. The Madonna and Child are not enthroned in a regal church or earthly landscape setting, not bogged down by big halos or golden crowns, not clothed in jewel-encrusted and fur-trimmed robes.

It’s the mystical, luminous, divine aura that shows us this is not a normal maternal scene. It is the serenity in Mary’s face, the peaceful sleep of the Christ child, and the mystical sense that he is not an ordinary baby that creates a captivating atmosphere; Mary knows that her son was not just given to her, but to all of humanity. The divine light that bathes the figures in this painting is such a beautiful illustration of the hope that the birth of Christ illuminates the world with on Christmas.

Jesus said to the people, "I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won't be stumbling through the darnkess, because you will have the light that leads to life." John 8:12

May your Christmas be merry and bright.

The Secret Gardens

I was simultaneously excited and panicked when I saw a picture of one of my favorite places in Orange County featured in C Magazine this month.

Excited because it’s a unique space that not everyone appreciates, or even notices; seeing it receive some recognition in a magazine is cool. And panicked because part of its charm is that it’s kind of a secret space that not everyone appreciates or even notices…and I kind of like that about it. It’s “my” place…my retreat…my sanctuary. But I suppose it’s time to share…

The place is a courtyard in Costa Mesa, tucked behind some tall office buildings and a parking structure. It’s called the Noguchi Gardens.

Yes, you read that right. A courtyard called the Noguchi Gardens. It’s really a space of art and sculpture, created by the Asian American artist Isamu Noguchi, in an attempt to interpret the different elements of California. The work of art itself is called California Scenario.

What I love about this place is that it’s completely other-worldly. Right off the 405, across the street from a busy shopping center, is a serene, quiet, peaceful place to escape the noise of the cars, the crowds of people, and the cares of the day. It’s a place that's restful but alive with movement and energy. A small stream of water trickles from a huge triangular sandstone waterfall and snakes through the middle of the courtyard to a slanted granite pyramid. A circular mound of desert cacti and plants represents the beauty of California’s deserts and contrasts with a square patch of meadowland surrounded by redwood trees. Lights surrounding the perimeter of the space give it a welcoming glow much like a warm fireplace on a chilly night. And the Gardens provide a different visual experience with every visit because of the way natural light creates different shadows with the elements that make up the space. The sound of the water, constantly moving shadows, and variety of textures and plants create a lively space that is more of a garden than a courtyard.

I have many fun memories associated with this place…my friends and I have bundled up on cold nights and watched the stars from the middle of the Gardens, laying flat on our backs. We’ve brought lanterns and cookies and recited famous poems and sonnets (oh yes, with accents), children’s fables and limericks, and one of our favorites, Jabberwocky. We’ve grabbed frozen yogurt from America’s Cup on hot summer nights and sat on the slabs of sandstone that were still warm from the day’s sunshine, as we tried eating our yogurt faster than it was melting. We’ve played card games, hide and seek, and Catchphrase. And we’ve had plenty of impromptu photo shoots and heart-to-hearts.

It's a magical place, and not-so-secret anymore. Are you ready to go to the Gardens?

"Even when I am gone, I shall remain in people's minds."--Napoleon

On Saturday, my friend Sara and I trekked to Anaheim to the Muzeo, which is currently hosting the Treasures of Napoleon exhibit. I was excited to see it because I really didn't know much about Napoleon. While driving there, we tried to remember facts about him...all we could come up with was that he was short, he was excommunicated to Elba, and he was funny in Night at the Museum 2. Fortunately, we were able to learn a little bit more about him after attending the exhibit, which covered everything from his early life up to his death.

The first thing we wanted to figure out was what he really looked like. Obviously, Napoleon was conscious of controlling his image, and we weren’t sure if the portraits we saw were "real" portraits or just idealized images of a “hero.” Judging from the first-known portrait of him (above), at age twenty-eight, he was pretty attractive. Sara said she’d “totally go out with him.” Ha.

The other thing we wanted to figure out was who he really was, which we didn't really get a grasp on. From the information in the museum, we learned that he was a keen judge of character, yet somehow trusted disloyal colleagues. He seemed to be deeply in love with his first wife, but divorced her after she failed to produce an heir. He cared about his soldiers, yet abandoned them when he felt it expedient. He did everything he could to strengthen the French nation, but in doing so, kept her in a state of war for twenty years. After all this time, he is still a mystery.

I can’t tell you all of his famous battles or accomplishments or important information about him, but I can tell you the following:

His peeps discovered the Rosetta Stone when they invaded Egypt! (I'm jealous. I've always wanted to make an important archaeological discovery.) Napoleon brought teams of scholars, artists, and scientists along with his army when he traveled to document what they found. He valued education, was a voracious reader, and loved math and geography.

He was notoriously frugal about his clothes and he often would get things repaired that would have been easier to replace! The exhibit had a sleeve from one of his jackets…the story goes that a waiter spilled sauce on the jacket, he went to get the sleeve replaced, and the tailor kept the sleeve. You can still see the sauce on it! I bet if eBay had existed back then, tons of Napoleon’s things would have been sold on it. Even during his lifetime, his personal possessions were regarded as treasured relics of a great man. The exhibit even has a lock of his hair.

He was 5’6” tall and according to a general, his teeth were “bad and dirty.”

His grandnephew founded the F.B.I. Random!

He was kind of obsessed with personal cleanliness. He started each day with a one-hour hot bath. Then he shaved and washed his hands with almond paste and his face, neck, and ears with soap and water. Then he would strip to his waist and pour eau de cologne over his head and down his torso. (Guess he didn’t care as much about his teeth.)

Sara and I really enjoyed the exhibit. It’s easy to see how Napoleon used the arts as propaganda to build his legend and to instill respect and admiration for himself and his policies. He seemed to be in complete control of his image. It’s crazy to think about the power of art and how it has shaped our view of historical figures.

The last part of the exhibit was a dark room with a spotlight on Napoleon’s hat, the greatest icon of the legend. He wore it “broadside on,” meaning the sides were parallel to his shoulders, so that he could be distinguished from his officers in battle. It was definitely the gem of the exhibit and a thrill to see!

The exhibit is only here until January 8th, so visit soon.

Believing Your Beliefs and Doubting Your Doubts

Doubt requires more courage than conviction does, and more energy; because conviction is a resting place and doubt is infinite-it's a passionate exercise. -From the play "Doubt" by John Patrick Shanley

I was talking with a college student on Thursday night who thought God was going to condemn him because he had doubts about God's character. I told him that God loves him so much and he will honor this student's seeking out answers to those doubts and will reveal his character to him as he keeps seeking it...because the truth of God can--and will always--stand up to any of our doubt, confusion, and investigating. I believe that our doubt, when explored, will essentially bring us closer to God, unless we let it fester in our hearts and allow it to consume and control us without doing anything about it.

The first Bible verse I ever memorized (before I even believed the Bible) was Mark 9:24--"Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." What I'm wondering is...how do doubt and faith interact? Is it possible that doubt is the essence of faith and not faith's opposite? Is faith really faith without room for doubt? I am not saying that I doubt God's power or existence. But I know that sometimes we have to choose to believe in him during times of hopelessness, suffering, helplessness, confusion, apathy, loss, or pain when it doesn't make sense to us...Paul says God is a mystery, and I don't think we'll ever fully understand him in this life.

Below is one of my favorite paintings by the Italian Baroque master Caravaggio. It is of Doubting Thomas, who did not believe that Jesus had been resurrected until he felt his wounds. Look at the face of Thomas in the instant that he believes! All doubt he once had has now truly been obliterated. And look at Jesus. Look at his kind and understanding face. Look at how tenderly and patiently he holds Thomas's hand, the way a father holds a child's. He wanted Thomas to believe, even though Thomas needed proof first. Jesus says that blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed. What does that mean?

What no person has a right to is to delude others into the belief that faith is something of no great significance, or that it is an easy matter, whereas it is the greatest and most difficult of all things. -Kierkegaard

Not the least of my problems is that I can hardly even imagine what kind of an experience a genuine, self-authenticating religious experience would be. Without somehow destroying me in the process, how could God reveal himself in a way that would leave no room for doubt? If there were no room for doubt, there would be no room for me. -Frederick Buechner

Thoughts??

Is all our life, then, but a dream? --Lewis Carroll

This painting by Maxfield Parrish, titled "Morning," is featured in this year's Pageant of the Masters. Isn't it beautiful?

Read my latest article about the Pageant of the Masters in this month's Gazette.

Let Me Explain...

I’ve retitled my blog several times. Unfortunately, it has had a few uninteresting and uncreative names. But I love the name “Impressions” for several reasons.

First, one of the greatest novels in the history of the world, Pride and Prejudice, was originally titled First Impressions, which I love, because the book explores the consequences of judging people’s character based on first impressions, which are often incorrect!

Second, when Claude Monet was criticized for giving his paintings monotonous titles (Entry into the Village, Morning in the Village, etc.…), he said “Just put ‘Impression.’” Monet’s interest was in reflecting his visual perception of nature…his impression of things.

So, there you go. That's how I came up with the title "Impressions." And really...that's exactly what my blog is about. I love that the title “Impressions” references both Austen and Monet…literature and paintings…books and art…things that I love with all my heart.

Happy Birthday, Jackson.

If the thoughts, dreams, and secrets of your mind exploded right now, what would they look like? I’d want mine to look like this painting by Jackson Pollock, called Lavender Mist. This is one of the reasons I wanted it to be on my blog banner.

Now, you might be thinking, “I could paint this! What’s the big deal?” And you wouldn’t be the first. Abstract Expressionism (the name of this art movement) has gotten a lot of crap not only from the public, but from the art world as well. And if that’s how you feel, well…I can’t make you like Pollock, but I can tell you a little bit about him; maybe you’ll find him a bit more interesting after this blog post.

Pollock is the most famous of the Abstract Expressionists. If you look at this painting, you might think that it’s just a random jotting of paint requiring the skill of a preschooler and little or no thought. The truth is, a Pollock painting did not come into being until after weeks, often months, of thought and work. The Abstract Expressionists were all about being true to their own felt experience in the process of painting; the painting was to reflect the artist’s own experience and humanity. Pollock said, “I want to express my feelings rather than illustrate them.”

Really, what you’re seeing isn’t really a flat painting at all; it’s an event. Pollock is freeing lines from their function of representing things and bounding figures, wrote art critic Michael Fried. The painting doesn’t end nicely at the edges, but goes into all directions indefinitely and refuses to accept the artificiality of an ending. Besides the lateral extension, the painting also comes forward, like a cloud or tumbleweed of colors. If you’ve ever seen a massive Pollock in a museum, you’ll notice that the painting comes into the room toward you. The “event” is then something that we participate in, instead of just observing.

Interesting, right?! This painting is in the National Gallery of Art in Washington D.C. Make sure you say hi to it next time you're there...it's a big deal.