Every Monday (is it Monday already?) Tess Kincaid offers up a delectable dessert: Magpie Tales.
Go to Magpie to read the other delicious tales---poems and vignettes--and link your own to the bountiful buffet of dishes.
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| Wheat Field with Rising Sun, Vincent Van Gogh, 1889 |
A special exhibit of his paintings. Unbelievable! Like it was a religious pilgrimage, she went to the art museum. Past the massive doors, across the marble floors of the cavernous main gallery, she headed to where canvas had been touched by god...
Going from piece to piece, gazing, genuflecting, getting lost in where he had troweled paint onto cloth.
Waiting until the guard was gone, and ignoring the velvet ropes, she leaned forward and touched one. Just one spot where he had been...
And then she left with a blissful smile.
This is a true story. I have loved Van Gogh for more than 4 decades and when a special Van Gogh exhibit came to town and I was way-too-old-and-should-have-known-better, I went and, uable to help myself, touched one of his paintings (even though I knew the oil from my finger would help hasten the painting's decomposition).
Somehow I think he would have understood. Or at least forgiven me...
Please don't tell my city's art museum. They just might decide to dust it for fingerprints and then put me in jail. Wait... Long jail sentence + unlimited free time = the luxury of uninterrupted reading and writing. Umm..
