Looking Up

Recently, I had an opportunity to travel to Venice, Italy. And, since I'm such an Anglophile, I couldn't bypass the chance to make a stopover in England on the way. It was a marvelous trip, the memories of which I will treasure always. Fortunately, I have more than my faulty memory to rely on in that regard; I have lots of pictures. As I looked through those photos again today, I was reminded of something that impressed me relating to the architecture both in Venice and in England: the ceilings. It's not that the walls and floors of the Renaissance and baroque cathedrals aren't equally striking; they are. But then we often find that in more modern buildings, even in this country - beautiful tile work, inlaid hardwoods, fine paintings and draperies. The ceilings, however, are often entirely ignored. Whether those artists long ago simply ran out of space and, therefore, had no choice but to move higher, or whether it was a conscious decision to place some of their finest work there in order to inspire us to look heavenward, I don't know. Either way, it's well worth a kink in your neck to admire it. Here are two examples (a side chapel in St. Giovanni e Paolo, Venice, and the Abbey at Bath, England).

Perspective

I wish you could join me on my back deck right now. My breath billows out in puffs of smoke as I exhale the crisp, March morning air. The mountain (Rainier) stands out as a gray-blue silhouette against the pale sky, with the foothills one shade darker and the trees almost black in front of them. Fog forms a thin film of frosting between each layer of the picture, and remnants of yesterday's snow hide in the shadows. The air is alive with the sound of birds - the honking of Canadian geese and the singing of songbirds returned from their winter roosts.

I know the economy's in the dumper and suffering abounds. But in the face of all that, the scene before me keeps whispering, "God is in His heaven and all's right with the world."

Discretion: the Better Part of Valor

OK. Remember when a few weeks ago I was so excited about all the new stuff I was learning, confident that I was able to do just about anything I set my mind to? If not, revisit Feb. 6th post "Old Dog Learns New Tricks." Well, since then I've learned one more new thing: it's best to temper that jump-in-with-both-feet attitude with a hefty dose of discretion. I looked the word up. It means the exercise of good judgment or common sense in practical matters; circumspection; foresight; prudence.

After hours and hours of work building my website, I was very pleased with it (and with myself for the accomplishment). I successfully launched it and announced it to the world. There probably weren't too many people listening at that moment, which is just as well because I soon had to publish a retraction. The website was malfunctioning and I had no idea how to fix it.
Here's where discretion comes in. I decided that it made more sense to hire an expert to correct the situation rather than sink any more of my blood, sweat, and literal tears into the project. That leaves me free to use my time more productively, doing the things that I do best.

This humbling experience hasn't dampened my enthusiasm for learning new things, however. I'm still determined to expand my intellectual horizons. Fortunately my Italian lessons are going much better than my brief, ill-fated foray into web design. A presto. Ciao!