For everything there is a season…
What is this season between seasons for?
A trip to the museum?
A grand place to explore
the history and culture
of the world.
to absorb the mystery and magic
of ancient ways and wonders.
“…as my eyes grew accustomed to the light, details of the room within emerged slowly from the mist, strange animals, statues, and gold – everywhere the glint of gold. For the moment – an eternity it must have seemed to the others standing by – I was struck dumb with amazement, and when Lord Carnarvon, unable to stand the suspense any longer, inquired anxiously, ‘Can you see anything?’ it was all I could do to get out the words, ‘Yes, wonderful things.”
― Howard Carter, Tomb of Tutankhamen
Steve and I went to the museum,
on a cold yet beautifully sunny day,
between Winter and Spring.
It was not a planned expedition,
and this was not a grand museum,
it was tiny one,
and we wandered in,
as wanderers do,
wondering why we were doing that,
as people sometimes do when they do what they don’t normally do.
“Ancient Egyptians believed that upon death they would be asked two questions and their answers would determine whether they could continue their journey in the afterlife. The first question was, ‘Did you bring joy?’ The second was, ‘Did you find joy?”
― Leo Buscaglia
We’ve both been to museums before,
the grand ones,
and been awed by the visit,
enough to not repeat the experience too often,
as it can all be too much
all at once.
But this was different,
and what it yielded within,
once fees were paid
(How much do they want for this!?! we both quietly asked before we’d seen what ‘this’ was)
“It often seems to me that’s all detective work is, wiping out your false starts and beginning again.”
Yes, it is very true, that. And it is just what some people will not do. They conceive a certain theory, and everything has to fit into that theory. If one little fact will not fit it, they throw it aside. But it is always the facts that will not fit in that are significant.”
― Agatha Christie, Death on the Nile
You say you have a passion for art,
but do you mean it when you say it,
do you live it
through more than words slipping off your tongue
and out of your mouth
into the ears of others
to impress upon them
for an art
which you may or may not feel
which may or may not be real.
“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.”
― Pablo Picasso
Would your passion allow your adult self
to become a child once again
and indulge in a
hands on way
about an art that once was.
Would you let yourself
get your fingers dirty while
rubbing out your name in hieroglyphics,
and enjoy feeling silly while doing it,
and later again feeling a fool for sharing it?
“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.”
― Aleister Crowley, The Book of the Law
And does art
have a passion for you too?
Does it love to enter your mind,
Is it in the air you breathe,
or simply an air that you exhale for others to inhale?
“Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me”
― William Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra
The museum we went to is
in the birthplace of Howard Carter‘s parents,
where he spent time as a child,
before venturing to Egypt where he became part of
the art of history.
This is a most unusual place,
hiding within it an Egyptian wonderland.
And we came away from our visit,
with an eye of Horus fridge magnet,
that we had to have,
a scarab ring for £1.50,
as I have a ‘thing’ about scarabs,
and a sense of renewed childish delight
in doing things for the sake of just doing them,
come what may…
this season or any other season of life.
“You might not think a hippo could inspire terror. Screaming “Hippo!” doesn’t have the same impact as screaming “Shark!” But I’m telling you—as the Egyptian Queen careened to one side, its paddle wheel lifting completely out of the water, and I saw that monster emerge from the deep, I nearly discovered the hieroglyphs for accident in my pants.”
― Rick Riordan, The Serpent’s Shadow