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together, we sat and were mesmerised by her face;
A tribute to a kindred spirit and the transitioning of friendship 
Smuggled & hidden In a carpet for 17 years, Selah!
A musical/poetic term meaning: just think about that! Pause for a moment and reflect.
Did the Artist Ferraris even know this little girls name?
How long did she have to pose in this overwhelming large room? Great, Royal people are standing all around, terror, death and change grasping the country. This last hurrah of Empress Zita, the wife of Emperor Charles I of Austria, at Vienna's Schonbrunn Palace in 1918, hires an artist to capture on canvas an Aristocracy that was passing away. 
The Last Audience of the Hapsburgs 1918 Jordon Schnitzer Museum of Art Eugene Oregon.
For a moment, I'll call her Sarah, the little girl with the round face, sketched clothing outline and a crown of wildflowers in her hair, she is memorialized with unfinished pencil markings of other war orphans around her. The painting, smuggled by an Opera singer and rolled up in a carpet for 17 years before finding its way to a bank vault.
I'll call her Sarah
Together, with my friend Julie, we sat and were mesmerized by her face. The depth of Sarah's look, few eyes in the painting moved with you as you watched, pondered. Our entire girls day out found a deeper purpose, humbled, awed and sealed within our hearts.
Small in comparison to the traumatic feelings of the persons in the painting,
Today I am reflecting on the transition of friendships once more. All the reasons for Julie moving back to Arizona are blooming with destiny and opportunity. I celebrate her dreams. We also live in an era of technological wonders; I am very familiar with Skype, hangouts, zoom the list goes on. Not the same century as our little friend Sarah when hearts were penned or painted on paper, sealed, sent sometimes lost. We can communicate in just a breath. I'm thankful, so very thankful to be sharing that breath with Julie.
Friends, I have had many, some for a short season, others part of a workforce, budding friendships didn't make it past the growing pains of youth, the sad accounts are the friends that our opinions changed, and those differences separated us. No, not unforgiveness, it's just that sometimes you come to divine bridges and they are unable to cross with you. Our hearts can finally celebrate at a later time, growths that a disagreeable interval brings to us. You have heard the saying; I can count my friends on the one hand? Yes, I can! My longest and still growing friendship since 8th grade. If I'm adding right that is 45 years. I invite you to read Suzanne's shortbread; it's more than just a recipe.
A kindred spirit moving away feels much like this painting; there are still lines you desire to pencil in together but the moments spent are like Sarah's gaze. Caught in a timeless place. It's up to us to smuggle the treasure's God gives us, take the risk of letting go and number them in your left hand.
My heart is renovated once again. I opened myself up to be loved, to be known, to question and that special friendship has enlarged my territory and spread out my tent pegs. The genuine and pure of spirit are always worth the trying souls that pass. Friendship's an unfinished masterpiece.
An in-depth video by Eugene curator regarding The Last Audience of the Hapsburgs
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