Week 4 – Original Prompt

 

Welcome sunshine lights the stained glass of the church near Piazzo de Colicola.  A circle of Mary surrounded by saints clad in plums, greens and golds looks down upon me as I look back toward the entrance.  They kneel before her bearing gifts as she proudly raises her arms toward heaven. Framed by a shell-shape pointed at top and bottom that contrasts with a deep blue sky, Mary’s countenance glows like the much welcome sun that warms the cobblestones of the streets of Spoleto.  Frescoes unrestored, their fragments bleeding through the ivory plaster, contrast with the memory of the cathedral in Assisi where every centimeter is covered with designs.  Scaffolding holds artists who painstakingly restore vibrant pigments that have faded in time.  A never ending process that has not yet begun here.  There are no processions of tourists cramming into this humble church that holds regular services upholding the traditions of the faith.  The pews are polished, the kneelers new and clean. 

 

I’m drawn to the simplicity, the silence of reverence, after the throng of tourists tempted by shops lined up, one after another, selling the same paraphernalia in the more famous sites.  The Ascension depicted on canvas looks down on the pews offering hope to the emptiness. The silence soothes my exhausted ears and that part of my brain that struggles to make out meanings from the flow of two incomplete languages that becomes an irritating din.  To the left of the altar, a huge pipe organ fills the alcove partially obscuring a canvas of St. Francis.  I cannot tell if he is preaching to the people who seem to be fleeing his church on Monteluco or if he is admonishing them for some reason.  His finger is pointed at them and they turn away from him.  Why would he turn them away?  Did they come to mock him or to throw stones at his faith?  Is he telling them to repent?  I have no one to ask about the history of this image, so I continue to roam about inspecting each and every dusty corner.