Pontormo's Annunciation

This is the Annunciation I wrote about yesterday. When I wrote my proposal for this grant, I suggested that the story of the angel's annunciation to Mary would be an informing metaphor for this liminal space, this odd and wonderful time of not only rest and recreation but of allowing myself to be open to God's invitation for the next phase of my life.

I had no way of knowing 1. that in Florence you cannot take more than a dozen steps without encountering an Annunciation or a gelato shop, 2. that the story of the Annunciation is in many ways not only a favorite biblical story but a defining metaphor for the creativity that is Florence especially during the early Renaissance, or 3. that the Annunciation is included as an element of an enormous number of other paintings. It is as if the artists feel the need to acknowledge that without this one terribly raw and pivotal moment the project of God's salvation would not have proceeded as it did. It is as if the entire weight of the Christ event rests on this one angel and this one eighth grader. It did.

I'm not an art historian, so as I write about my encounters with the Annunciation, as I intend to do with greater focus and attention once I get to the library in Wales, it will not be with academic expertise. I do hope to be able to read enough and research enough not to be entirely ignorant, but I am approaching the Annunciation as a lens for enlightenment rather than as an object of study.

As I've spent a little over three weeks now meandering around Florence on my private treasure hunt, it feels to me as if God is a couple of steps ahead of me planting an Annunciation everywhere I turn. There was a dear one above the doorway of a flat in Fiesole yesterday, not to mention 13th century statues in the museum in San Gimignano and a precious pair of panels by Filippo Lippi, so different from and so much easier to fail to notice than his important painting (which I adore) in the Church of San Lorenzo. I've found I have favorites, which is a good thing since I cannot possibly write about all of them.

And so here it is, Monday, and basically we have no big plans. We were going to go to San Gimignano but maybe we'll do it tomorrow. It is a luxury to have the latitude of time that we've had, time to meander and discover treasures we don't have the good sense to know that they are waiting for us. Time to look and time to listen and time to reflect and ponder. Grazie mille.