It's No Michelangelo

How do I begin to explain to you the emotional effects of something that has enveloped my whole life finally coming to fruition. To describe the sweet sensation and peaceful accomplishment of such an enormous event in one's life, seems almost futile in its efforts to convey the reality of what I feel.

On a recent trip to Italy, a visit to the Vatican was an absolute must. It was in fact, the most consistently visited venue of our vacation. During one of our almost obsessive tours of the Vatican, we were blessed enough to experience the amazing Sistine Chapel painted by Michelangelo Buonarroti. (1475-1564)

We're all familiar with Michelangelo's work in the Sistine Chapel, as well as, his most infamous statue of the beautiful, majestic, David. However, for me, all of this was something beyond words. Tears streaming down through my crows feet while looking skyward to the ceiling, my eyes darted from one image to the next, from one figure to another, simply trying to inhale every brush stroke and fine gilded detail.

As an art history enthusiast, studying the works of such masters as Michelangelo, Caravaggio, Raphael, DaVinci, Bernini, Botticelli, Rembrandt, became a passion. To then visually experience their brushes, their chisels, and their pencils first hand was truly a gift from God.

How often during my studies did I imagine them as regular men with a talent so great that all the nobles and kings sought after them with vigor. They would be commissioned by many to paint stiff portraits of those in power, entrusting the artist to convey not only their dignity and honour, but even more so, their wealth.

These regular men however, were also often commissioned by the church. Evidence of this enormous movement spreads across Italy, specifically and with vast numbers, in Rome.

Michelangelo was commissioned by the Pope to paint a small chapel adjacent to the Vatican. The job wasn't his preferred method of creating, however, after much consideration, he accepted. So over the next four years, with repeated attempts of sneaking a peek from the Pope, he went to work trying to depict his visual representation of our God and His work.

I wonder what went through his mind while standing (yes he stood on a platform to paint, he did not lie down) for hours upon hours, looking up, depicting what he could of the most intense bible stories, of life on earth as we know it to be told. Did he truly believe he was working directly for God? Did he feel absolute honour to be painting in God's house? Did he paint with such precision and perfection based on the fact that if you can't try your hardest for God Almighty, then who would you paint perfectly for?

I believe if he was a man of faith, he couldn't of possibly have spent that much time, doing what he so clearly loved to do, without some of these things crossing his mind. I say this based on experience.

I have finally become my own Michelangelo, a true Caravaggio. Imagine that! I have finally had the experience that they have had as our greatest masters of all times. I certainly didn't paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, I certainly didn't paint the graceful figures as Caravaggio did, but I did paint for God.

I simply painted the back wall behind the alter of my parish. One colour. Two and a half hours. It was no Michelangelo.

It was a small feat, but the time spent imagining how Michelangelo may have felt, was so invigorating, so insightful, so inspiring, and it was all done in the quietness of the Lord. Just He and I.

I was painting for God. How special was that.

:)