Way to Go Disney.

When I went to see this piece for a second time, the experience was a bit different than the first. Somehow, though, it reminded me of when I saw it a few months ago in art history. I definitely spent more time there than I had the first time, mostly because I did not have to work on extra classwork or ridiculous assignments that I could honestly care less about. This time, I spent time just sitting there and admiring the piece without as much concern for needing time to make it to the modern art section or the Greek sculpture segment of the museum. Last time, I remember feeling almost hopeful about the piece. I felt as if it had captured the essence of what truth and love and the sacrifice of oneself to another was. However, maybe due to current circumstances, I felt differently this time. I felt almost sad. I felt like the statue, while still capturing that essence was almost a lie. One thought that came to mind in that instance was the effect of a Disney movie. As a child, we all remember being bombarded by these movies and stereotypical views on love, fairytales, and the happily ever after. I know that I personally loved the princess movies, as any typical girl would. My favorite was Beauty and the Beast. You could put that movie on at any time, and I’d be sitting there mesmerized by the screen. It was pathetic but fantastic in other ways. However, after watching the princess movies, I somehow formulated that typical view of love and that life will be a fairytale where everything will work out and there will be that happily ever after in the end. But after looking at this piece, I started realizing that maybe it is not true. Nothing in reality is perfect or always happy, and even if there might be happy, there will not be a perfect happy ending in which my prince and I ride off into the sunset followed by chirping, cartoon birds and making our way to the palace. Because after all, I’m bound to be a princess. Life is not like that. It’s hard, it’s lonely, and most of all, it’s a journey. Those fairy tales were a lie, and looking at this sculpture, I realized that all of my views on love and how one day I’ll find “the one” and live happily ever after was pretty much complete crap. At first I just began to doubt it. I thought life doesn’t work that way. Not everyone will find someone that they will end up married with 4 children, living in the suburbs, eventually having grandchildren and celebrating their 75^th wedding anniversary still madly in love. Welcome to the twenty-first century... Now, I’m not saying it’s not possible. It definitely is. I’m just stating that I would rather not believe it and live with lower expectations. I’ve come to hate the disappointment I experience every time someone lets me down. So instead, I will be, to be corny, the master of my own fate. Now, staring at the statue I started remembering how I felt when I saw it last and how it seemed perfect. Then, after spending much more time with it and drawing it, I began to realize its imperfections. I saw how ambiguous some areas of the piece were. The hand is oddly huge and almost begins to consume the woman. The details of the face are lost and areas where the body meets the stone become general and lost as if they dissolve into the rock. This almost verified the idea that something I saw and thought was perfect truly wasn’t. Everything has flaws, though some may be small enough to be overlooked. This statue almost proved to me that something beautiful can still exist, but we need to stop believing that there won’t be an imperfection or two along the way. Stop living in a delusion and start living in the moment when we can clearly observe our surroundings and acknowledge some truths that we may have avoided previously. It’s amazing, but I almost feel as if this sculpture evoked some kind of epiphany in my response just based on when I went to visit it. And I can say that I’m glad it did.