My heart belongs in another century?

Tonight I am getting all ready to attend the New York Renaissance Faire in Tuxedo tomorrow. I may go on Labor Day, Monday, also. I will be clothed in replicas of 15th century garb, including shoes and hat and shoulder bag. I can't wait - I'm an excited Faire geek, what can I say?

As a child, I fell in love with Renaissance art, particularly that of Michelangelo after reading Irving Stone's "The Agony and the Ecstasy" many many times. Then in college I fell whole-hog in love with Medieval and Renaissance music, so much so that I majored in music, to the point of getting a Masters degree in music as well.

Now I knew Faire lovers back then, but I kept my distance from them. It seemed to me that they were a hedonistic lot who only got involved in Medieval and Renaissance re-enactment so they could set aside modern mores and ethics and engage in decadent peasant-ish rolling in the hay. I felt some contempt for them, and stayed rooted in the modern day, even as I made an emotional connection to the music and art that I loved so well.

And then just 18 months ago, all that changed. I made some new friends who regularly attend Faires, especially their home fair in Tampa, Florida. They invited me down to attend the Faire with them, it sounded like it would be a fun escape from wintry New York City, so I went. And it was fun. How much of it had anything to do with the Renaissance I leave to another person to work out. It is silly, childish, but also fun and yes, escapist. But I guess my life in recent years, after going through divorce and starting over, allows for some things I would never have previously considered.

Last weekend I was in Washington, DC, and so I spent a few very enjoyable hours walking through the galleries of our National Gallery, looking at art from the 13th through 17th centuries. As I looked at various paintings of the Virgin and child and adoration of the Magi, I found myself noticing the clothing of the background characters especially, getting more ideas for what kind of outfits I would like to wear at future Faires.

I may not really be leaving my century behind for another when I immerse myself in this play-acting, and the music-making I do. But there is something there that speaks loudly to me, that feels true. I can lose for a few moments the cardboard assemblage I have called myself all these many years, and begin to build a new character out of real cloth.