Tripping out on ecstacy
- “Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend.
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer and - sans End”- - Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
“It’s such a lovely day! Life is so rich! I want to live, live, live. I just can’t get enough of it!”
My friend’s eager longing for more of what we both know is limited now that we are well into our senior years resonated within me.
“Then let’s make the most of today!” I exclaimed, more for my own sake than for hers.
We were waiting in the portico of the Art Gallery of NSW with other members of OWN’s “Lost Ladies” art appreciation group, preparing to view the much-touted Islamic Art collection. Our guide, an elegant and articulate woman of our own age welcomed us to the first room of a seven-gallery presentation. Discreet lighting, cleverly designed exhibition settings and specially commissioned music quickly transported us from downtown Sydney to the mysterious East. On display before us, ancient books of the Qur’an, its beautiful but indecipherable lettering inscribed on soft vellum and bordered with delicate designs, only added to our sense of being in another world.
As we clustered around exotic items of glass, porcelain, ceramics, ornate metal daggers, helmets and masks, our guide related what we were seeing to the rich and extensive history of Islam. From 7th century onwards, Islamic dominance gradually extended from Spain to China, India, Southeast Asia and sub-Saharan Africa. Our eyes were opened to the consequent richness of these intermingled cultures as we tried to imagine the extraordinary power and material wealth of consecutive Islamic empires. Gorgeous handwoven carpets ,painstakingly inscribed and decorated manuscripts, wall hangings, fabulous and intricate gold jewellery and even a flower-patterned hookah attested to a life style I had only imagined in childhood stories from “The Arabian Nights.”
Breaking away from the group for a few precious moments before the end of our tour, I returned to Gallery Five, arranged to resemble the inside of a mosque. In here, the darkened setting was truly spellbinding. A vast, but discreet black chandelier hung from the high ceiling, each of its many curved “fingers” ending in a small light. To gaze up into it was to glimpse the star-filled heavens. Adding to the already mystical ambience, an eerie, almost mournful Muezzin cry calling the faithful to worship induced in me a sense of awe, reverence for some nameless essence of life almost palpably present. Completely out of it, I could only absorb the beauty of the exquisite items of worship around me: tapestries bearing extracts from the Qur’an, an intricately carved sandalwood “altar”, and precious objects gleaming in protective glass cases. The only thing missing was a seat on which to pause and lose myself in this incredible atmosphere a little longer…………..
But, as always, good things have to come to an end. I rejoined the others for a browse in the adjoining exhibition souvenir sales room, hanging on tightly to my credit card lest I be seduced into buying something that would deceive me into thinking I could possess an experience that is by its very nature evanescent. We moved on to coffee together and after a short time of conviviality, I was ready to depart. I stepped out, blinking, into the brilliant sunshine of Sydney at midday, spirits high. As I walked along, the loveliness of the freshly rainwashed Domain trees and gardens against a cobalt sky on this unusually warm late winter’s day made my already excited spirits dance. A carillon song from the bells of St Mary’s pealed over our busy and prosperous city, celebrating the moment. Sparkling water sprayed from the Archibald fountain symbolising life’s abundant, exuberant energy as it arched and splashed unceasingly. Watching, I was truly somewhere else……..
That afternoon, I slept. Knocked out. Real ecstasy does that to you.