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Portraits of Solitary Women
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I'm completely aware, in this day of google searches, that how words are strung together on a blog- post may elicit some strange virtual visitors. A few years ago when began homeschooling my first born in Preschool I wrote only a few posts on a blog entitled "Chronicles of a Headmistress." I thought the title rather catchy, but my husband worried that men searching for raunchy images of a scantily clad Catholic School marm would instead find pictures of our three boys and me. Anyway, I digress a bit, but I realize that my title today may bring a few unwanted tourists.
The other day my husband was making a run to Goodwill and asked if I was ready to get rid of a few of the pictures I had hanging in my apartment before we wed. These were the images in question:
COASTLINE by Steve Hanks, hung above the couch in my living-room. It was the first piece of art I had ever purchased for myself (albeit was only a print that cost me $20) and I came upon it in the window of an art gallery when I was a freshman in College. I came back another day because I was haunted by the fact a stranger had so perfectly captured my self-image. I purchased the print and saved it in a cardboard tube for three years until I graduated from College and had my first non-transitory apartment.
And THE LADY OF SHALLOT by John William Waterhouse, hung above my bed. My fascination probably began with dear Ann of Avonlea, as she played out the scene from Lord Tennyson's Poem, "The Lady of Shallot".
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
It is true that I was drawn to these solitary, introspective women in my single-hood, but I think my connection to their lonely plight went deeper than my marital status, far deeper than my circumstances.
Even now that I am constantly surrounded by a husband and children, with visits from my mother and the blessing of many more friends than I deserve, it is still the quiet spaces of my thought-life, my prayer-life, my alone-life where my soul finds both discomfort and rest at the same time. Quiet questions are asked between me and my Savior, unshed tears that I am far to busy to shed on the outside, roll down the inside of me. Sights I marvel at but speak of to no one are tucked away and private. And there is a power down deeper than can what be expressed that I find in these images of others, and I know is alive in me.
A few months ago my husband and I walked into an art gallery and this watercolor grabbed at my insides like no other solitary figure has done in years. Concierto de Como by Felix Mas enticed me to her strength and winsomeness, and in so doing my own.
It's an odd medley, an interesting pairing, being both strong and winsome. But aren't we, women, just that? Strong and capable, yet light as air; lifted up by levity one moment and then blown over with a harsh word the next. Grounded as the oak tree's roots, yet fragile as their autumn leaves.
Art is a power tool, unlocking the deep spaces of strength, gaiety and sorrow, wonder and peace. They tell stories; often telling our own as they portray the reality of another. Who is this Siren? My husband saw a woman not to be trusted, playing her songs to lure men from their journeys, but I saw wisdom and truth, strength coupled with femininity calling out to me.
There's no real message in this post. Just my musings. It's nice to stop for a moment and meditate now and again on art, images, thoughts aside from parenting, finances, marriage, or self-improvement. Thoughts simple yet deep, strong yet winsome.
The 20 dollar prints that had been collecting dust in our garage are gone now, ready to grace the home of another introspective soul, and I'm all right with that. Maybe one day my husband will replace what he hauled off with Concierto de Como. but maybe not. But it's fun to think on these images tonight and wonder about the person I am who has been inspired by these solitary women.
What say you? Do you have a special piece or two that has move you to this day, or have moved you in one of your past lives? Its fun to revisit and ponder and dream. Here's to a few moments to do just that amidst the laundry tonight.
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