Today's adventures took us to an ancient monastery, erected over 1,000 years ago. It was interesting seeing the deterioration of the building, especially the interior. Sections of paintings and other decorations have fallen away and been lost in time. The building itself was structurally sound, of course, but the aesthetics were crumbling. I thought it was very interesting that the body of the patron saint was kept so tightly preserved while the rest of the church was allowed to fade away. The church was spotless, but the damage and wear of years have taken their toll. And yet, the relic is encased in a wood and glass casket, only a thin, withered hand extending from the black robes. As we passed through on our way to exit the church, a man slipped by me and kissed the corner of the casket near the head.
We continued on to Delphi, the famous ruins tucked into the side of the mountains. How perfect that I would become fascinated with destruction earlier in the morning before visiting these ruins. Ruins advertise destruction. The site at Delphi was plagued by earthquakes which caused the ultimate downfall of the complex and buried it into the hillside for many, many years. Reconstruction efforts have restored several of the buildings to partial representations of how they might have been laid out. It was a beautiful site; I was struck by the feeling (as were several others) that this certainly seemed like a place for a divine experience. It definitely looked like a home of the gods, but gods who had very certainly died. It was a bizarre feeling; it occurred to me as I walked past the obliterated Temple of Apollo. The museum showcased blasted ornamentation of the structures; chunks of sculpture were damaged or missing, and a model of what the complex may have looked like was much more expansive than the ruins suggested. So much had been lost and never recovered; destruction at its finest.
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