immortal person

Giovanni came to Florence alone when he was 13 years old.It was Palm Sunday in the 56th year of the Holy Calendar. The water of the Arno River was cold and green, and the wind came from the other end of the long river, supporting the heavy backpacks of the travelers.The young man from Caples has not yet shed the fluff on his cheeks, which symbolizes childishness, but the firmness praised by later generations has clearly appeared on this young face: a few days ago, the years-long relationship between him and his father At last the dispute ended with his victory, and the fate of becoming a priest or a doctor was avoided. The workshop of Ghirlandaio accepted this stubborn boy. And the carving knife makes the soul.

He forgot to sleep and eat.In just half a year after joining the workshop, he was regarded as a "genius" by his peers, and he was soon able to learn sculpture from Bertoldo.The master who was good at chiseling life out of bronze was also good at discovering light from apprentices. Under his strong recommendation, Giovanni was able to enter the "garden" a year later-this year, he just turned 15 years old .

For those under the patronage of St. Luke, the word "garden" had only one meaning in the city, as the word "college" had once been for the Athenians of classical times.Giovanni had longed for this garden on the edge of St. Mark's Square—everyone knew what it meant to art, and what the family behind it meant to artists.As early as the age when he could only doodle casually, he had already heard about the generosity and self-cultivation of Duke Cosimo, and secretly traced the pattern of the coat of arms.It is said that the elders of the Medici family were devout of the high art, and the young heir of this generation was the most outstanding among them.Legend has it that he would write long poems in Tuscany, describing the grass and lambs in the field; he would also advise on the construction of the arches of the church and help select truly talented craftsmen.To an artist living in this city, his favor is tantamount to divine favor, and his seat at his table is an invitation to a higher hall.There was no one who did not know the young duke, Lorenzo de' Medici, "a young man spoiled by the gods."

At that time, he was only 19 years old, but he already had too many legends attached to him.People are happy to discuss his various glorious deeds in his youth, such as visiting Naples as a diplomatic ambassador at the age of 15, meeting with the Governor in Venice a year later, and being summoned by the Duke of Urbino... There are even rumors that today's The Pope was very curious about this radiant young man.As the de facto king of Florence, his power and wealth are imaginative, people talk about his generosity and extravagance, and marvel at his collection of various works of art - it is said that the carved ring he newly bought is Worth thousands of florins; even in this day when the family banking industry has shrunk, he still has the luxury to spend a lot of money on treasures.As for those who are fortunate enough to make collections for him, most of them will have the title of "Master" in the near future.

For the apprentice Giovanni, the story of the duke and his wealth was more like a myth, a ballad that exists only on the strings of a lute.Even though he never doubted that he would one day receive an entrustment from the "family" - everyone's praise for his young genius is the source of his confidence - but he also understands that his current level is still far from enough for him to enter family perspective.Fortunately, he has always possessed incredible tenacity and patience, which are the necessary qualities for every craftsman who is born with stone.He waits for that day and believes it's not too far away.

On that April afternoon, the garden was filled with the sweet scent of orange blossom and gardenia.If the court singers were to describe the scene, they would sing: summer romance, the sun is so bright, it is destined to be the day of miracles.And in fact, Giovanni didn't even notice the man when he came up behind him.

The boy's heart was falling on the semi-finished statue in front of him.It was the work Bertholdo had entrusted to him today, a bust of Faon.When apprentices of the same age were still practicing sketching and grinding varnish day after day, he had already been able to come into contact with the best stones from the south, which made him more cautious every time he cut the knife.The April sun was clear but not hot, and the light fell on the young man's back that was tense because of his concentration, and the thin sweat shone like diamonds on his forehead.Standing in the shadow of the apple tree, the distinguished visitor looked at the dedicated young craftsman not far away, and for a moment did not know which one was more worthy of appreciation, the newly formed statue or the radiant young man in front of him.

"Is it Phaon?" he asked.

Startled, Giovanni turned his head immediately, and saw those blue lapis lazuli eyes at a glance.

"You're engraving it," the visitor seemed to feel sorry for his abruptness, and slightly slowed down his voice, "Is it Faon?"

It took Giovanni so long to look away from human eyes that it was almost a faux pas.He quickly withdrew his eyes and replied, "Yes, Your Highness."

It is not too difficult to confirm the identity of the person in front of him.It is very difficult to find a second person with such temperament among those who may appear in the garden, even in the whole of Tuscany.His attire is simple, but the nobleness is just right on this handsome face that was carefully painted by Botticelli, and the bluest eyes he has ever seen are as dazzling as in the painting.The moment he lowered his head, Giovanni chanted a sentence in his heart to praise the Lord, and since then he believed that the painter of the master was really good enough to reproduce Jesus.

"Mind if I take a closer look?"—still a gentle question.

Only then did Giovanni notice that his guillotine was still on the face of the statue.He stepped aside quickly - which at once proved to be a very wise move - as Lorenzo de' Medici stepped forward, threw back his cloak, and sat down on the grass beside him.

Suddenly, for the first time, Giovanni found his work unbearably poor, as if every previous gouging had not landed where it should.The Duke is 21 years old this year, but his eyes have been fixed on hundreds of works of masters. What would this rock look like in his eyes?He clenched the handle of the knife tightly, feeling a thin layer of sweat dripping from his palms.

Lorenzo did not speak, Giovanni raised his eyes, trying to guess his thoughts through the expression of the Duke.Fortunately, the connoisseur was not as strict as he imagined. Lorenzo raised his eyebrows slightly, and his expression was completely appreciative.

The long stare ended with a sigh.

"Amazing," Lorenzo looked at him with undisguised praise, "Did you do this alone?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Giovanni folded his hands behind his back, hiding his bandaged fingers.He continued: "It's not done yet, though."

"But it's enough for the viewer to see the aura." Lorenzo smiled. "Excuse me, how old are you this year?"

"Sixteen years old, Your Highness."

A thoughtful expression appeared on the Duke's face: "It's unbelievable."

Lorenzo's close friends would recognize the familiar look in his eyes at this moment, the light that emerges when a true genius is discovered, like a treasure hunter opening a treasure.Calmly, Giovanni straightened his back, wishing he looked taller.Lorenzo bent slightly so that he could see the top of the duke's hair.Seen from this angle, Lorenzo's curly hair shines like gold in the sun, like the mythical Apollo with the sun's rays.

It turned out that the Duke was like this.he thinks.Seems like it should be.

"It's unbelievable—there is such a young master in my garden," Lorenzo said without noticing his gaze.The young Duke turned his face and smiled at him again: "I guess, Bertoldo must have put a lot of effort into you."

The boy nodded.

"His best is at your knife." The duke praised him sincerely. "There is only one thing missing. Let me point out, little master, your work is amazing, and your age is a halo and a shackle— —if this is the image of an old man, how can there be—?”

He touched the face of the statue directly.Giovanni was taken aback, and then immediately noticed its fatal error.This made him flush instantly.

Lorenzo puts his finger in the statue's mouth.According to past habits, Giovanni designed a mouthful of full teeth for the former Faun, but forgot that this is rare for the old man.This was the first time he had attempted to complete a work on his own, and Giovanni could not believe that he had overlooked a mistake that should have been erased at the sketching stage.He looks down.

"I'm sure it's not Moses you're trying to create," Lorenzo quipped. "There will be no miracles happening to him."

"Yes, my lord." Giovanni frowned tightly, "I am very sorry...and thank you."

Lorenzo laughed.

When he smiled, his facial features were very relaxed, his eyes were naturally slightly bent, and his expression was pleasant and soft.How can one smile so freely without losing grace?Giovanni couldn't help looking up at him, thinking almost instinctively, which statue or painting could reproduce such a scene?

"Take it easy, my little master." Lorenzo repeated the address that made him blush, "it's just a trivial blemish. You have time to fix it and a lifetime to create something far greater than this." .Instead of worrying about it, look up and look at me."

Under the shadow of the swaying trees, the Duke smiled at him, with a smile as warm as the sun.Giovanni raised his head slowly, gray eyes met blue eyes.

"Now," the young Duke looked at him, "will you tell me what your name is?"

"Giovanni." He returned the same gaze, "Giovanni Buonarroti, Your Highness."

The author has something to say:

Palm Sunday: The holiday commemorating the last entry of Jesus into Jerusalem.

Faun: Faun in Roman mythology.

Moses: A character in Exodus who performed many miracles through the power of Jehovah.