Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Showcase of the Gods

I've been to Thailand, where slender Theravada-style Buddhas grace cities, and villages, and forest shrines, some of them plated in gold and standing several stories tall.  I've been to Hawaii, where stoic-looking Japanese Buddhas recline in splendid temples.  And yet, just today I came across the most beautiful Buddha statue I've ever seen.  This Buddha was probably crafted in the 3rd century CE in Pakistan, where all ancient Hindu and Buddhist statuary is now in danger of being destroyed by extremist Muslim iconoclasts.
 Because the weather today was miserable, gray and rainy, I decided not to go hiking and went alone to the Carnegie museums in the Oakland neighborhood of Pittsburgh.  It was so nice to look at the art exhibits without impatient children tugging at my sleeve.  I discovered whole rooms, and large displays, and in fact a whole wing to the art museum that I'd never had an opportunity to visit before...because I never went alone.  The newly-discovered "wing" was American furniture, so it didn't hold my attention for long, but whether it's in the forest or in a marble-halled museum, there's nothing like finding new places.  
I also had the occasion to linger longer over all the old medieval devotional art that wives and children cannot endure.  Seeing images of Jesus and the Buddha in near proximity always causes me to wonder.  I comprehend the ancient European wisdom of "Eostre," the understanding that light and life can only rise out of darkness and death, that everything good must come to an end, only to be born anew in fresh manifestations of wonder and power.  It's the parable of springtime.  I get that.  There's great beauty to it.  But it seems almost a shame that Western representations of divinity are so sorrowful.  In contrast, just look at that Pakistani Buddha.  So serene.  So imperturbable.  So damn virile.  Could it be that I have a little man-crush on the Buddha?
Hiking is always my drug of choice, but I've got to say that a rainy day wandering alone among statues and paintings is almost as good.  On the drive in, a girly of about 20 cut me off in traffic and stared at me arrogantly as she did it.  When she turned into the museum parking lot, I'm sure it creeped her out that I turned in right behind her.  She probably thought I was following her to avenge myself.  It turned out that she was an employee, and I loved the way she hid her face embarrassedly each time I walked past the little showcase that she was guarding.

No comments:

Post a Comment