I'm sorry that it's been so long since I've written, I'm currently in Shotley Bridge, Northumberland and have been to Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, Charlotte North Carolina, Philadelphia, London, Edinburgh Scotland, The Lake District in Cumbria and some other parts of North/North East England. A whirlwind of a trip it's been so far, but so so valuable to me. It was Tuesday, I think, when I was in Scotland that I saw one of those very European monuments for the Scottish Philosopher David Hume on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. I noticed something really interesting about it as we walked by, and I thought I'd share it with you.
With my layman's assessment of these European statues, and no background in art history, I looked at Hume's monument with no real concept of what material the sculpture had been cast in. I just hadn't considered it one way or the other. That was until I looked at his right toe. If you look closely at the second picture above, you can see that Hume's right foot juts out slightly and the toe is suspended off of the statue base. At about one and a half times the actual size, the toe reaches a person of average height at their eye level, essentially making it the easiest thing to touch. After seeing Edinburgh Castle and Gladstone's Land, I was in tourist mode in Edinburgh. Everything is highly protected and picture taking and touching is limited where it isn't prohibited, so you assume everything is from a surreal, ancient time. The style of the sculpture also helps to take you to some other era, where men from climates like Scotland's wear togas in the middle of the city (The fact that he's wearing a Roman toga is the subject of another interesting, albeit irrelevant side-note, but I digress).
So back to the sculpture, and David Hume's toe. Though the statue is actually not that old, it is in the uncovered path of the elements, and has eroded to the blueish-green of many open air brass sculptures. All but his right toe. Hume's sculpture toe has been the lucky receptor of daily polishing by millions every year. Since the statue was finished in 1995, people trying to get a little bit closer have reached out and touched the right toe, making it the only shiny, clearly brass section of the sculpture. I enjoyed the discovery of his shiny toe, and it made me think about people in a similar way.
Have you ever met someone who surprised you with something really interesting and lovely in their character? I think it probably happens most obviously when you're falling in love. If it sounds cheesy, bare with me. I haven't written in a while, plus I really believe this. I think that most of us are a little bit eroded by the elements of our life, as we stand in their direct path. Where you notice your own erosion, you might think about how to get your shine back (read: work through your "issues"), but think about the instances where others either know or see that you clearly are a more beautiful material on the inside than what you're presenting in the moment. Imagine; just think about the people in your life who actively polish (read: affirm, encourage, speak life into) you. Imagine now how many opportunities pass each of us by because we didn't think to polish.
Tonight (it's a quarter to eleven p.m. here), I'm thinking about polish. I'm thinking about how simply reaching out and touching someone can change their very appearance to the rest of the world. It's not that hard, and it doesn't even require elbow grease. Who are the eroded brass sculptures in your life? How do you think you can touch them? My personal effort is going to be to vocalise those positive behaviours I see in the people in my life. I'm starting with affirmation, and looking for more shiny toes.
With my layman's assessment of these European statues, and no background in art history, I looked at Hume's monument with no real concept of what material the sculpture had been cast in. I just hadn't considered it one way or the other. That was until I looked at his right toe. If you look closely at the second picture above, you can see that Hume's right foot juts out slightly and the toe is suspended off of the statue base. At about one and a half times the actual size, the toe reaches a person of average height at their eye level, essentially making it the easiest thing to touch. After seeing Edinburgh Castle and Gladstone's Land, I was in tourist mode in Edinburgh. Everything is highly protected and picture taking and touching is limited where it isn't prohibited, so you assume everything is from a surreal, ancient time. The style of the sculpture also helps to take you to some other era, where men from climates like Scotland's wear togas in the middle of the city (The fact that he's wearing a Roman toga is the subject of another interesting, albeit irrelevant side-note, but I digress).
So back to the sculpture, and David Hume's toe. Though the statue is actually not that old, it is in the uncovered path of the elements, and has eroded to the blueish-green of many open air brass sculptures. All but his right toe. Hume's sculpture toe has been the lucky receptor of daily polishing by millions every year. Since the statue was finished in 1995, people trying to get a little bit closer have reached out and touched the right toe, making it the only shiny, clearly brass section of the sculpture. I enjoyed the discovery of his shiny toe, and it made me think about people in a similar way.
Have you ever met someone who surprised you with something really interesting and lovely in their character? I think it probably happens most obviously when you're falling in love. If it sounds cheesy, bare with me. I haven't written in a while, plus I really believe this. I think that most of us are a little bit eroded by the elements of our life, as we stand in their direct path. Where you notice your own erosion, you might think about how to get your shine back (read: work through your "issues"), but think about the instances where others either know or see that you clearly are a more beautiful material on the inside than what you're presenting in the moment. Imagine; just think about the people in your life who actively polish (read: affirm, encourage, speak life into) you. Imagine now how many opportunities pass each of us by because we didn't think to polish.
Tonight (it's a quarter to eleven p.m. here), I'm thinking about polish. I'm thinking about how simply reaching out and touching someone can change their very appearance to the rest of the world. It's not that hard, and it doesn't even require elbow grease. Who are the eroded brass sculptures in your life? How do you think you can touch them? My personal effort is going to be to vocalise those positive behaviours I see in the people in my life. I'm starting with affirmation, and looking for more shiny toes.
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