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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2001-08-02 - 9:50 a.m. A Box of Light Pennsic packing proceeds, interrupted by lots of naps for this damn cold that just won�t go away. I did a bit of cooking and packed up the kitchen last night. I decided Elsworthy can just go ahead and be smug � she�s not packing the cooking gear, so she gets to skip that chore. And she gets to skip land grab, and bringing the common tent, setting up the showers, hmmm�. Besides, demoness have extra cool powers which make it easier on them. We�re dropping stuff off tonight to add to Gen and Alan�s trailer pile. Ah, wonderful friends that let us throw stuff in the trailer. I boxed up all the lanterns � the ones I had repaired, the proceeds from the IKEA trip. Lanterns are a touchy packing item � glass and metal, breakable and full of empty space. When I finished, I have two boxes of light. Illumination trapped in a dark crate, waiting to be set free. There�s a 13th century chapel in Paris called Sainte-Chapelle. You can see the spires from Notre Dame, but everyone gets so focused on the catherdral, they often skip Sainte-Chapelle. It�s also called a box of light. You enter through an lovely downstairs. Stone archwork, stained glass, and pretty finishing adorn the ground level. Then you climb the narrow, dark, spiral staircase and enter the chapel which towers five or six stories from ground to roof. And forget to breathe. The solid, beautifully painted chapel walls end about eight feet up. The next four stories are stained glass windows, stretching to the sky. Stand in the middle of this jewel box as afternoon lights floods the chapel and the colors sing. You sit in the chapel and �read� the stories of the saints in stained glass. Take binoculars and a couple hours. Pictures do not do justice to stained glass and you have to study the entire window to read it�s story � the same story that inspired Blanche of Castille when she worshipped here as Queen of France holding the Kingdom while her son Louis IX, later Saint Louis, was away on Crusade. Roland, Mel and I spent a long afternoon reading the windows of Sainte-Chapelle. By sheer serendipity, they were hosting a sunset concert there the same evening. Of course, we came back for the music. We sat amongst a spellbound crowd as the sun set, golden light shimmeriung and dying behind the stained glass and Vivaldi�s "Four Seasons" whispering in the air and history singing in your soul. Shiver as time shifts. Time shifts are one of the best things about Pennsic, those moments where suddenly you feel like you are back in the Middle Ages. It�s a brief brush with eternity. � � � 
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