1. With not much to do and living in the city, tonight I decided to visit the local art museum before it closed. As I entered I encountered: a tall, thin older gentleman, with wavy hair and glasses, smoking a pipe. He was dressed rather casually in off- white khaki pants and a soft blue flannel shirt. His wrinkled white cotton handkerchief was practically falling out of his back pants pocket, and I couldn't help but notice a few splashes of various colors of paint on the toes of his shoes. In his shirt pocket were various sizes of paint brushes, rather worn with much use. In his right hand he held a small paint brush, and in his left hand he carried a palette of many colors.
2. Looking straight at me and greeting me with a smile he said: "Oh, I'm so glad you could make it tonight. You are perfect for the model of the girl that I am trying to paint."
3. Guiding me through the Great Room where all the great masters of art and their paintings and sculptures stood I was amazed to see: these grand old master artists hard at work. I thought I recognized some them from their portraits...but I knew it couldn't be possible that they were really there in person...I mean, that can't be Leonardo da Vinci over there dabbing the final touches on Mona Lisa's smile...can it? It seemed as though the woman sitting for the portrait looked right at me for just an instant and winked! I was so dumbstruck I nearly tripped over the jar of paint sitting on the floor at the artist's feet.
And then, as if that wasn't strange enough, the gentleman with the pipe took me by the hand and said, "Please keep following me...we really need to hurry! Could you help me carry a few things? I've got to get this painting done before it posts on Saturday Evening."
As we hurried through the building we passed through a lovely garden, and there was a footbridge over a water lily pond, and on the other side a beautiful woman sat serenely under a canopy of lilacs, reading a book, and she looked like the epitome of springtime. Her bonnet was a delightful creation of pink flowers with ruffles around the edges, and her soft, pink gown spread out upon the grass so gracefully. I believe I heard her say to the man painting her portrait, "Oh Claude, I could just stay here forever. It is so peaceful and delightful!"
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| Springtime, by Claude Monet', 1872 |
The gentleman with the pipe was getting impatient with me as I dawdled along, but honestly, how could I just rush through this magnificent place? There was so much more to see...and so many of the great artists were there, painting, sculpting, creating the masterpieces that we could only read about in encyclopedias! This was the opportunity of a lifetime! It was as if I were in a time machine, catapulting through time and seeing such marvelous beauty unfolding around me.
Finally we entered a room, rather a studio, with many canvasses standing about on easels...each in various stages of completion, perhaps waiting for the next layer of paint to be applied. I recognized so many from the far regions of my memory. There were portraits of people, men, women, children, from all walks of life and ages, doing ordinary and extraordinary things...a family eating a Thanksgiving dinner, Baseball players and fishermen, children playing games and laughing and dreaming together, young lovers at the soda fountain after the prom, a little girl with a black eye and unkempt braids, her blouse untucked from her skirt and shoe laces untied, sitting outside the principal's office, but looking very proud of herself...soldiers coming home from war, the young war hero telling his stories to the men in the neighborhood garage...and often, more times than not, the image of my "gentleman" seemed to look out from the canvas in various poses and styles...
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| "Tripleself" by Norman Rockwell |
Suddenly I heard a voice over the loud speaker saying it was time for the museum to close. I knew I had to hurry to find my way back out to the door before it was locked for the night. The "gentleman" was so "lost" in his work back in his studio, he didn't even seem to notice that I had to leave. He never said another word, but stayed engrossed in his work, as if I didn't even exist.
I managed to find my way out to the door...
4. Upon leaving I wondered If what I had seen was truly: real? I hurried through the streets to get back home...all the while wondering at the mystery of where I'd been and what I had seen. I was running so fast that I never stopped to realize that I was carrying a lot of art supplies in my hands, including a wet canvas...things I know I didn't have with me when I entered the museum. When I got home, my husband asked me where I had been and what on earth was all of this that I carried? There was no explanation for it. I was totally mystified.
However, on Saturday we received a copy of the Saturday Evening Post in our mailbox. And what do you think was on the cover of the magazine? Yes...it was me..."The Girl Running with a Wet Canvas"...
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| Girl Running With a Wet Canvas, by Norman Rockwell |
The End
For more information about Toni's Creative Adventures, you can visit her at this link:
Perhaps you'd like to try your hand at a creative writing experience? It is a great brain exercise! Obviously, that couldn't really be me in the picture...but then again...you'll never know for sure, will you?
