Wasted Sanctuary

Last week, I participated in a horn choir at a college not far from Small Town. I've already written about that experience, but I neglected to show you pictures.

My horn lessons are from 4:00 to 5:00 in the afternoons, and since rehearsal for the choir didn't begin until 5:30, I had some time to wander and see things I normally don't see. When I go to my lessons, I usually try to get in and get out unnoticed by walking in a straight line through the hallway—I go to the performing arts building, and there are always college-age kids sitting around talking and laughing in all the seating areas. I feel like their mother,or an intruder or somebody who's about to ask if they have cleaned their rooms or scold them for behaving badly at parties, and I feel out of place.

But last week, the lobby was clear, and I got my first look at the courtyard that sits in the center of the building. It was a sunny, warm day, so I sat out there for a little while and took notice. It was quiet and isolated from passing cars or noisy students. There were flowers and blooming trees, planters and chairs, and a small statue—the perfect sanctuary for budding artists to look for inspiration or find a moment's peace.

I wondered why I don't see more students lounging around out there instead of inside, and I suspected it's because the chairs inside have cushions. If I were an actual student at the school, I'd take some of those cushioned chairs outside in the courtyard and claim the territory.

Here is a closeup of the statue—a marble sculpture of a sculptor carving a face into marble. I don't know anything about this or who created it. Does it took familiar?