Memories make your loved ones travel through space and time, my dogs from thousands of miles away show up. As I lay in this bed I never wanted to be in, I want to hold them, I want to go back. I feel that nostalgia only loneliness can breed. I came this far, I decide to book two guided tours one for the Vatican's museum and another for the Coliseum. Here is the plan I will be in the Vatican museum at 8:45 am, Im just 20 minutes away, an easy task. I put the alarm at 8 nothing to worry about. At 3 am I finally go to sleep unfortunately I wake up before 7. I start trying to build a case against the 16th chapel and how it's not worth it. I mean who cares about Michael Angelo, he is not the reason Im here anyways.
I litigate for over an hour, I remember Alan Watts "If you are going to be an expert archer, you must shoot before you think, otherwise it'll be too late", so I decided to just shoot. I take a shower and run to the museum. There is no line, I got there a few minutes late but my group still hadn't left. Our tour guide was so charismatic. There was so much joy in her words, and she would accompany her unusual movement with sound effects. She dodged a little girls staff with a gentle neck movement while saying "uuuuuuuuuuueeeeeeeeee".
She started speaking, she was committed, she wanted us to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I really liked her, as her words came into existence I realized she knew magic. She placed Michael Angelo in front of us, I saw him painting the 16th chapel breaking both his neck and back, I saw him writing sonnets. While she chanted stories of my new hero I was hypnotized by her voice and gestures. I had my first real moment, trying to conceptualize the sculpture that went to create the most known fresco of humankind. Two popes knew being the closest to god wasn't enough to be remembered, they needed Michael Angelo to elevate them.
I needed to see nothing else, I needed to hear no more. This moment was enough to make the pain dissipate. I held my tears, I hadn't felt this way in so long I also hadn't seen a single painting or sculpture. Imagine how weird it would be for me to start crying at the entrance of the museum. We walk inside and we see a lot of cool statues, mostly roman gods. My thoughts were put on hold when I entered the Hall of Constantine, where I witnessed his journey from paganism into Christianity. When I looked above, my mind was blown away, on the hall's roof a broken greek god statue with a wooden cross and a Christ behind it. What a powerful image I thought, the old gods, the old believes and traditions have to die for the new ones to succeed. I had a burning sensation an instinctual reflection, putting it into words right now it was something like "I have to change my habits and old ways".
The school of Athens was a gift Raphael left and I felt blessed to be there, I saw Plato depicted with what is believed to be a portrait of DaVinci. This was our first official encounter, Plato was kind enough to tell me everything about Socrate's death, and DaVinci brought me to Italy. I know the other frescos in the room were masterpieces as well, but I can't remember them. My consciousness was trapped in this moment, a moment that felt crafted just for me.
The tour was about to end, the tourist guides don't come with you into the 16th chapel. She said goodbye and I thanked her, I wished I could've told her thanks for loving your job and gifting humanity with your grace. She made me hopeful, that the world can be a better place, we can all do something that adds to humanity and not in the way capitalism pushes exploitation with the excuse of progress. I start walking towards the 16th chapel and to be honest, I was getting desperate I wanted to see Michael Angelos's masterpiece.
I put my headphones on and play "No church in the wild" - Jay-Z and Kanye West on repeat as I prepare myself to take this moment. I start trying to absorb everything I'm looking at and while watching Adam about to touch God, I felt heard. I felt I knew him and he knew me, I felt his loneliness, his desire to ascend. I saw him trying to bring heaven to us, for what is a gifted man's job if not to show us God (perfection). I felt that this was a letter he wrote for anyone who can find their feelings on the fresco. It was his loneliness, ignorant to the limits of time trying to communicate with whoever was willing to reflect. I pause the music and spend the next 20 minutes not feeling alone, I cry. I see my name on one of the columns and I cry a little more. I proceed to exit while thinking as I assume thousands before me have"Michael Angelo I love you". He gifted me so much, you can't take pictures inside the 16th chapel and none are needed that moment will be engraved in my soul until I go mad...
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