I have always loved going to museums. They are one of my favorite places to reflect, see things from a different perspective and visit old friend. I always feel like I walk out of a museum in a better mood and a better person then I went in. I have so many wonderful memories wondering around and getting lost in painting hung halls.
Growing up I remember going to the Memorial Art Gallery (MAG) with my family. There are some paintings or sculptures I stand in front of and it’s like I’m a kid again listening to my mom explain something. There is a painting of a woman cutting onions, a sculpture of Abraham Lincoln, and how can I forget the mosaic upstairs. My mom would ask my brother and I what it was, and we couldn’t leave it until we came up with the name of it.
Going to such a familiar museum right now is perfect, I haven’t been to the MAG in far too long. Everything was in a slightly different place from how it used to be. It echoes the way I feel about things right now. I’m still me, more so than ever, but things feel slightly off and not where I expected them to be. Of course, as with life, in museums there are new things to explore and find comfort in.
Even with things moved around I still know what pieces I am drawn to, what ones I call friend. Wherever there is a Rodin, Monet, Degas, Rockwell, O’Keefe, Picaso and so many other favorite artists, I know I am among friends.
When things are hard, I think it is best to remember your roots. Take solace in the things that have always given you comfort, it is the best way to remember who you are and who you want to be.
Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.