The Painted Flawless Manual

I once had the privilege of seeing the Mona Lisa painting at the Louvre Museum in Paris. It was quite the experience. As I attentively circled the front of the knee-high metal barricades that sectioned people off from getting too close to the painting, I marvelled at the portrait of this woman who was literally no one of real consequence. Above the shuffle and whispers of people as eager as me to see this famous piece of art, my memory replayed the many rumours I had heard about the painting over the years. I’d heard tales about the stare of her eyes that filled with sadness, along with the hint of a smile that could light up your darkest thoughts. I’d also heard numerous tales of what she was really like beyond what was portrayed, and even rumours of a love affair with her painter.

The woman captured in the Mona Lisa had been cast by many as the quintessential beauty. But as I stared at her in that museum those many years ago, she seemed surprisingly ordinary. Her attire, the plainness of her brown hair worn free, her posture—all ordinary. But when my gaze came to her eyes, there was certainly a mystery there. A mystery that a thousand words could never tell but would have to be seen for itself. Each time I looked again I found a new mystery in her stare, something else I hadn’t noticed before, which reeled me in deeper, beckoning me to who she really was. That for me is the beauty of the Mona Lisa. It’s so much more than a painting.

The lady in the Mona Lisa painting was discovered to be Lisa del Giocondo, the wife of a silk merchant, and though she came from noble stock, her family was not particularly wealthy or well-off at the time of her marriage. Historians tell us that she was a good and faithful wife and well loved by her husband. A few years into her marriage, the painting of the Mona Lisa began by one of the most renowned painters in the history of man, Leonardo di Vinci.

Under French law, the Mona Lisa is deemed priceless. France prohibits sale of the painting as it belongs to the people of France; this also means it has “infinite value” (as a sale price cannot be agreed). Were this law to change for any reason enabling a sale, the painting would be worth billions of pounds—close to £1.5 billion today.

In the same way, our self-image is worth more than we could ever imagine.

In this chapter, we’ll examine intimacy when it comes to ourselves. We’ll explore the concept of seeing or knowing all of who we are, not just on a superficial level, but on a much deeper one. It’s vital that we each examine our self-image and learn to appreciate who we are and how God created us. So we’ll look at our journey of intimacy with God also.

Fine Lines, Layers and Cracks

The Mona Lisa, which was created starting in 1503, is now over five hundred years old. It has aged considerably and acquired cracks along the way. This is known in the art world as crackle or craquelure—a fine pattern that consequently forms on the surface of the paint layer. Humidity or temperature fluctuations cause little cracks in the painting, and to what extent this happens is down to the ingredients used, the quality of paint or the type of canvas, and of course, the passing of time.

In the same way, fine lines form on our faces through stretching and pushing. The fluctuations in rhythms, temperature, and passage of time enable these lines to occur naturally. Cracks reveal layers. A true portrait of our lives can only be depicted in layers, like layers of earth or soil, and when seasons change, this has an extraordinary effect on those layers. The certainty we have is that seasons will change; however, how well our soil adapts is down to many other factors.

Like the cracks on the Mona Lisa painting caused by temperature changes, humidity, and other environmental conditions, we also go through sometimes dry and parched land in the world and that causes cracks in our existence, but rather than allow them to destroy us, we allow them to add texture to the journey and define hope and beauty for the generations that follow.

Cracks in our world are undeniably a result of the numerous complex layers of individuality we each possess and how well we manage to harmonize them or disenfranchise them along our journey.

Our Self-awareness, Our Layers

Intimacy is derived from the Latin word intimus, which means “inner” or “innermost.” The art of intimacy always begins with self. We learn to appreciate ourselves and others much more through making the right choices in exploring our innermost qualities. It helps us relate well on many different levels and build productive relationships.

When I was a little girl, I thought I knew a lot—about myself, about people, and about things in general. Now that I am older, I think what a lot of foolishness that was, but even the Good Book says that foolishness dwells in the heart of a child. Even foolishness has its purpose to serve, or else there would be none the wiser and certainly no need for developing self-awareness.

When we are younger, we tend to have a sense of invincibility, like we can do almost anything and have got all the time to do it. I think that is why we might try lots of things with less scepticism. We are also paradoxically far more susceptible to peer pressure. I think for a woman like myself, this happens because the lens of focus provided is sometimes very narrow, making us think we have very few options that ensure our wholeness or fulfilment or reason for existence, thereby restricting us and resulting in the accumulation of many veils rather than setting us free.