Tuesday, April 30, 2013

My First Visit to the Art Institute

"...let's go on to the next gallery, we have so much more to see today."
      They moved too fast for me, and I fell behind. How could I give just a glance to portraits that lived and breathed, to landscapes the artist had meant me to get lost in? I lingered, and while I did, art did just as it intends to do, it taught me how to see. There were paintings that robbed me of my breath, paintings that made my pulse loud in my ears, paintings that put a tightness in my throat. Some paintings had the quality of being a dream, others the quality of being a memory. Some paintings were so beautiful that after I left them they remained in my mind like the fragrance of a garden, and some paintings told terrible tales and taught me that art is not always beautiful. Art attacked me in my mind, attacked me in my heart. Art awakened me...

Recollection of my first visit to the Art Institute of Chicago, included in my short story collection titled "Stories of The Boy with the Yellow Socks."  The book is available on Amazon under the pen name J. Carter Swift.

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