Maria is an artist in her soul and heart and bones.

She has always wanted to be an artist, it just took her awhile to go for it.

She is beginning to live her dream, which is not the same as a perfect life. The Creative Life is as hard as it is fulfilling, and she has now past the point of not return. She will always be an artist, in part because she is so talented, but also because she is strong and committed.

Watching her grow and fight and work to get her life has been one of the most thrilling and rewarding experiences of my life. It is only natural and fitting that Maria now has her own museum. I’m in love with her, but I also believe she is a remarkable person and a brilliant artist in her very own way.

The Williams College Department of Art thinks the Williams College Museum Of Art is part of the college, but it isn’t really. It is Maria’s own museum.

The museum is perfect for her. A sweet and creative place.

It is close from the farm – about 45 minutes by car, which is close for up here. It is small. It is free. It has a creative and modern sensibility, its contemporary art collection is impressive, it’s always different and interesting.

It is quiet, very often she (we) can wander the galleries alone. It’s the most peaceful art gallery I have ever seen.

I see it as a kind of place of worship  for Maria, when she needs a vitamin shot of art, or some artistic refreshing, we go there together or she sometimes goes there alone. She wanders the galleries – we are known there now, and she knows every corner  of the museums.

When we go, we spent about an hour, it  revitalize Maria, lifts her up.  She is always beaming, smiling, happy there, it’s as if she breathes the art, drinks it out of one of those silver chalices in a glass case there.

I love seeing her never-fading excitement when she looks at the paintings and artworks, her sense of wonder, I love watching how it lifts her up and restores her.  This isn’t just something she likes, it’s something she needs. And whenever she asks if I want to go, I always jump at it. I do.

I’m not an artist, but a writer, but I know how draining and lonely creative fatigue can be. If I had my own museum of writing around, I would go there often. We both work alone, and that can sometimes be hard. Sometimes you just need to feel and see the work of others, it keeps me or her from falling in ourselves and getting sale and worn. I do this by reading books and seeing movies.

She has a museum.

Sometimes we go have lunch or dinner at a Mexican restaurant we love,  there is also Thai and Persian food nearby. People know us now, greet us, smile at us. It’s an odd thing to say, but people love to see people in love, women especially can just sense it, and they smile at us.

There is a used library book store with current books in great condition and large print books for the Mansion residents (and puzzles for them.) The restaurants and book store are just around the corner.

“This is your museum,” I said recently, and Maria laughed dismissively. Oh no, she said. I don’t have a museum. “It is,” I insisted. “It’s free, lovely, smart and  quiet. It’s you.”

She does have a museum, but she is much too modest to say to, or think that, but I believe she is coming to like the idea.

And this is the perfect one. A good one, a small and accessible one – we can park right in front of the museum for free. The staff is friendly, the guards are usually reading novels, art students greet us and talk about the exhibits. The other visitors smile and talk about the art.

We went yesterday, and I got this shot of Maria reveling in the art in her museum. Every time I look up, she is starting at something, calling me over to show me. I can’t ever muster all of the enthusiasm she has, but I love being with her in her museum. And I do drink up the art, just in a different way.

Art is life for her, the museum is her Church, her place of meditation and inspiration. I get to sit in her pew.