My bedroom has a wall. On it hangs ‘the Virgin and Child’. I am not very conscious about it. Still, everyday this picture tells of its presence. The original drawing was done by Leonardo da Vinci and was drawn in charcoal and white chalk. I got the copy of it from a friend of mine and since that time, it stood on my bedroom wall.
There is something delightful in this picture. Each time I look at it, an inner conversation keeps rolling in: It tells me about the children, the mother, and a happy home… it tells me about the maternal pride of a young woman and the healthy smiling child in her arms. I think these elements are quintessential in any family. Hence, consciously, or unconsciously, I like this work of art.
The owner of every wall may have a reason for the pictures on their walls. As we exhibit them in public, seldom do we realize how the world looks at it and what the world will find in it. The essence of every wall is to have meaningful pictures.
If the wall I am speaking about is a metaphor of life, then it is more radical to think of the pictures on it. Life chisels different pictures for its wall as we grow up and grow old. The shapes and forms differ. Over the years, many newer pictures appear and older disappear. The wall is sometimes burdened and sometimes lightened. Yet, all of us will have pictures to speak about and pictures to be silent about. If I were to make an examination of my life and evaluate all the pictures those are hanging out there, what will it all look like? What will they all speak to me? Will they speak bitterness or sweetness? Will they cry… or smile?
The wall and the picture stand still.