“As humans we look at things and think about what we’ve looked at. We treasure it in a kind of private art gallery.” Thom Gunn
My art gallery is in my mind. When I experience a beautiful moment, I linger there. I want to fully embrace it. I want to see it, feel it, smell it, listen to it, and taste it, if possible. My five senses become the colors for my art. Every experience doesn’t get protected in the gallery. Some experiences I remember, but I do not call up the memories. They fade some over time.
Other memories, I protect. They get placed in the art gallery and I visit them often.
Puffing my wedding veil from my face as I try not to cry as my groom is singing the song he wrote for me.
Standing on a pier in Santa Monica and watching the ocean greet the shore, seeing the textures in front of me: foot printed sand, white bubbling crashing waves, blue sky, and the green bluff of land jutting out of it’s mountain perch as it watches the same scene.
Stroking the hair at my husbands temples as he rests his head on my lap. He’d just gotten home from the hospital. As I stroke his temples, I note the gray that is beginning to appear. Life moves on and leaves it’s affects on us.
My father walking out on the empty golf course approaching a lone figure, crying in her grief. His arms folding around me, and telling me it will all be okay.
Waking up on the hospital room cot and seeing little white Kids tennis shoes gently tapping the floor as the person rocked to and fro on the other side of of the crib. I sit up on my cot, look over the crib, and discover the shoes belong to my sister who has come to comfort me while there with my infant daughter.
Feeling the hug from my friend when my world was falling apart. Feeling a comfort from him that reached to my soul.
Standing in a castle garden and giving my love to my second husband. Surrounded by nature, flowers, and the breath of spring. All full of hope and promise.
Seeing bright red flowers that grew from the stubborn black lava rock that covered the Big Island in Hawaii. Being so amazed that life could grow out of such hardship. Yet, knowing that to be true in my own life.
These are a few. The gallery is too big to describe all the art which is stored there. One of the beautiful things about this gallery, is that it never closes. I can enter it anytime I wish.
“The sun never sets on my gallery.” Larry Gagosian