There are millions and millions of people in Europe. But, if you were to include all the statues adorning the continent, the population would easily double.
I love statues! They’re beautiful, exquisite, romantic, and often evocative of another time and era. They’re frozen in place, though I imagine, every night in the bleakest, darkest of hours, they come to life, swiftly moving around us, and gathering like wisps of ghosts. With gossamer wings, they take flight and have a good laugh at our busy, stressful lives. No doubt, they remember calmer, quieter days.
These statues, made of marble, clay, and stone–no matter where you find them–tell a story through their pose, their garb or lack thereof, and through their countenance—whether smiling, brooding or taciturn. Their very presence can haunt our lives or make them better, thanks to their absolute magnificence. Yet, we can walk right past them, and not notice them for what they truly are: Art. Works of grandeur, bits of history that we can touch, admire, and enjoy.
Maybe I’m drawn to them so, because they’re not as plentiful in the states, as they are in Europe, where you can walk anywhere, at least in the major cities, and see statues everywhere you look. Sure, we have our share of statues in New York, Philadelphia, Washington, D.C. and the like. But, here in California? Let’s just say, they’re a little harder to find.
Of the 7 million that I estimate are in Europe, I must have seen at least two thousand on my trip this past summer. These classic sculptures beg to be noticed. They’re ready to charm their way into our lives. Having been tethered to their spot for, maybe, centuries, I guarantee you, they will remain there long after you and I are gone.
Herewith, some of my favorites:
Statues are tortured souls.
Statues are bold and daring.
And One More…
…Statues like to shop, too!
So, tell me. What stories do these statues tell you? Any favorites?