Week 2: Crazy Huge History Timeline

The Adams SynChronological Map of History

Math is not my strong suit.

When I ordered this timeline, I was expecting it to be about 1/4 of this size.  Great Googly Moogly. 

But it is amazing.  Look at those colors!  Look at all that information!  I feel faint.  One of the things that got me excited about homeschooling to begin with, was getting to teach history.  I loooooooooooove history.  Well... that's sorta weird to say, since so many awful events have occurred throughout history.  I guess I looooooooooooove learning about history.

I was an Art major in college, and I almost minored in Art History.  Oh Art History, I love you so.  You little minx, you.  But I couldn't bring myself to do it.  I knew I was already bound to be unemployable with that Art major hanging over me, and adding Art History would have just pushed me over the edge.  Instead, I minored in the the vague Communications, where I took courses like "The Vietnam War Throughout Film" and "The History of Animation."  You know, so much more practical.  Eye roll.  Whatever.  At least I didn't minor in Dramatic Set Design.

Anyway, back to my hot and heavy love affair with history.  Smoochie smooch.  Ironically, my passion was once nearly quenched when I was 20 years old and studying abroad in Florence, Italy, of all places.  First of all, in Italy, the art itself can almost send you into sensory overload.  Sometimes, it is just too. much.  You just want to turn it off and watch a coat rack for awhile.  But even their coat racks are beautiful, so you can't.  That was a small part of my problem.

But the real problem--the ghastly monster who almost destroyed my love of both art and history--was named Helen.  At my art school, the only professor of Art History was a certifiable OCD nutjob.  I've blocked her last name from my memory, but her first name is stuck in there forever... Helen Helen Helllllllllllllen.  Helen, an American expat in Italy, had been at that school for many many years, and it pains me to think of how many art lovers this woman probably destroyed over time.   In class, we flipped through art slides at lightening speed, unable to keep up with the dry and boring facts that Helen flatly rattled off.  On field trips, we literally ran from church to cathedral to museum, barely glancing at monumental works of art, while a trail of spewed facts jabbed into our skulls.  As students, we were constantly scolded for drifting off, not "appreciating" the art enough or trying to listen to other tour guides.  Some students took to sneaking off to drink wine in small Italian villages we visited.  I finally tucked headphones inside my cap, listening to old "Police" songs in an attempt to drown out the pratterings of Helen.  I will forever think of angrily staring at Renaissance paintings in freezing cold churches when I hear "Don't Stand So Close To Me."  When I was actually reprimanded for spending too much time in "awe" in the Sistine Chapel (approximately 15 minutes), I almost snapped.  I went and hid behind some scaffolding to keep from having a professor verbal smackdown in the middle of the Vatican.   I look back and cannot believe that, because of one mentally ill teacher, my love of Art History was almost ruined.

But no, Helen, did not ultimately kill my joy.   It took awhile to recover... but I think I am ready to jump back in and study some great art and some fascinating history.