I'm reading Ariadne's Clue, a book about symbolism. A few years back, I immersed myself for a little while in "Women's Power" books, which gave me a taste for psychology. Every now and then, I toy with the idea of going back to school and studying psychology.
But something that struck me was the use of software and hardware as metaphors. That's a pretty widespread analogy. Something that stuck with me was from Ockham's Razor, in which Rowland says: "Chartres is software for which we have lost the hardware". I read that the summer before my first trip to France, when I finally saw the cathedral for the first time.
It's a beautiful cathedral, I highly recommend going, and staying awhile. There's a delightful Englishman doing tours. At least, I hope he still is, he was veryvery good. The first reason I had for going was the labyrinth, which is inlaid into the floor. During the "Women's Power" reading, that was supposedly a symbol of feminine mystery. (Interestingly, Ariadne's Clue is calling that a symbol of hell.) Then I found out about the stained glass. This was when I was doing a little stained glass work myself, and I got all excited about that, too. And the light filtering through the glass is why I recommend staying at the cathedral for a couple of hours, if you can spare the time. The light changes as the day progresses. In another little church, Notre-Dame-la-Grande (which is quite small) in Poitiers, I played with standing in the pools of coloured light. I'm such a child.
On the subject of coloured light, there's the little chapel on the Île de la Cité in Paris. Can't remember what it's called. gah! I was outraged at having to pay admission - admission to a church! But it was beautiful inside, worthwhile. The gorgeous colours inside are still deep, unlike the colours in Notre-Dame-la-Grande, which are faded, and the second level is filled with coloured light from the walls of stained glass. (Was it La Chappelle? Nope, I checked - Sainte Chappelle.)
Of course, half the second level was covered in scaffolding and cloth. The whole trip could've been called "Paris en Panne" (Paris, out of order). It was August/September 1999, and they were fixing up for millennial celebrations. The whole front of the Palais Garnier was hidden behind scaffolding - grr!
It's an odd-numbered year (France/Paris '99, Paris '01, Andalucía '03), time to go back! *sigh*
But something that struck me was the use of software and hardware as metaphors. That's a pretty widespread analogy. Something that stuck with me was from Ockham's Razor, in which Rowland says: "Chartres is software for which we have lost the hardware". I read that the summer before my first trip to France, when I finally saw the cathedral for the first time.
It's a beautiful cathedral, I highly recommend going, and staying awhile. There's a delightful Englishman doing tours. At least, I hope he still is, he was veryvery good. The first reason I had for going was the labyrinth, which is inlaid into the floor. During the "Women's Power" reading, that was supposedly a symbol of feminine mystery. (Interestingly, Ariadne's Clue is calling that a symbol of hell.) Then I found out about the stained glass. This was when I was doing a little stained glass work myself, and I got all excited about that, too. And the light filtering through the glass is why I recommend staying at the cathedral for a couple of hours, if you can spare the time. The light changes as the day progresses. In another little church, Notre-Dame-la-Grande (which is quite small) in Poitiers, I played with standing in the pools of coloured light. I'm such a child.
On the subject of coloured light, there's the little chapel on the Île de la Cité in Paris. Can't remember what it's called. gah! I was outraged at having to pay admission - admission to a church! But it was beautiful inside, worthwhile. The gorgeous colours inside are still deep, unlike the colours in Notre-Dame-la-Grande, which are faded, and the second level is filled with coloured light from the walls of stained glass. (Was it La Chappelle? Nope, I checked - Sainte Chappelle.)
Of course, half the second level was covered in scaffolding and cloth. The whole trip could've been called "Paris en Panne" (Paris, out of order). It was August/September 1999, and they were fixing up for millennial celebrations. The whole front of the Palais Garnier was hidden behind scaffolding - grr!
It's an odd-numbered year (France/Paris '99, Paris '01, Andalucía '03), time to go back! *sigh*