Bink shot this view (right) from the Basilica's roof, after she and Richard finished spray-painting her labyrinth design on the lawn yesterday.
Bink says there's an angel's shadow in this photo: "like a huge figure's shadow, bent over--hands on knees--to get a look at what these puny humans are doing now. And it's got a halo--white glow around the head, maybe some wing glow too along and above the back."
I fail to see this, imagining instead landing grids for alien spacecraft.
Bink designed 23 labyrinths before the Basilica Peace Committee chose this one (in Bink's hand, left) to complement their peace pole, representing a spiritual path to peace.
The shortest route between two points may be a straight line, but that's rarely the one committees take.
[Example from Catholic history: The cardinals who convened in 1268 to choose a new pope took 2 years, 9 months, and 2 days to make their decision.]
If people are familiar with labyrinths, they tend to know the famous medieval one at Chartres Cathedral, France (plan at right).
Labyrinthos notes "labyrinths in the French cathedrals were the scene of Easter dances carried out by the clergy."
I would like to see a modern version of this, but the Vatican outlaws sacred dance in today's church (no kidding).
Bink met with Richard, the builder/contractor, to lay out the preliminary path with a pro measuring tape...
...and orange spray paint. I came along to take notes (and photos) for a possible article.
The paint is waterproof, which is good because storms keep threatening.
The contractor chided Bink, "Sweetheart, your lines aren't straight."
I tried out the labyrinth on my bike. My inner peace wobbled on the tight turns, but it was fun.
Tomorrow a crew will mow the labyrinth into the lawn.
If you're in town, come and walk it!
If enough people use it, the committee may vote to set it in stone.
Or world peace may break out, whichever comes first.