I woke up at 4 a.m. this morning, and my first thought was that Maria and I needed to go to a museum together. It is one of our favorite and most grounding activities. I thought we both needed it.  I knew Maria would balk at this; she didn’t think I was ready for hours of walking around a museum.  She thinks I look pale. I am pale.

I argued that I was ready and eager, and she gave in. She was right, of course, but it didn’t matter. I would rather be tired at the Museum and in my living room. I’ll still keep getting better. I feel it almost every day.

I’ve been to museums in my life, but I came to love them much more when I started going with Maria, an artist for whom museums are sacred and inspiring places.  Going to a museum with an artist was a revelation to me; I always wanted more. We see museums in Williamstown, North Adams, Mass, and when we can, New York City.

I’ve loved every one I’ve seen with her and came to love discovering all kinds of beauty in every single space. Unlike Maria, I do not know much about what we call art, but some artists and works inspire me and touch my aspirations and emotions. Life with her has taught me a lot about art.

Art and creativity are such an enormous part of our lives. And I never take a photo of anything that doesn’t stir my emotion and evoke some kind of spirituality.

We meant to go to the Clark to see the Edward Munch exhibit, but it left a few days ago. No matter, we had a lovely time. They have a lot of great work in that museum

One of their featured painters is George Inness, the famed American landscape painter who sees landscapes the way I want to and am trying to. This beautiful painting was done in 1887.

Photography is very different from painting, but I am pushing the idea of the paintedphoto, photography that often looks like a painting and triggers the same emotions. I try to do this with my photo art.

My morning mist photos are somewhat like that, or so I hope. The great portrait artists are mostly dead and gone now,  photography has killed them off, but there is nothing like them, really.

They teach me a lot and stir my emotions. Innis’s photo below mirrors my feelings about my landscapes and what I want to work towards. I don’t have the range of colors and brushes that Inness had or the skill, but I have a Leica camera, whose unique glass helps me capture the softer feeling of a landscape painting.

I thought the Museum’s description of the painting was perfect; it is what I would love to do but probably can’t quite ever do.

“Early morning sunlight filters through a dense forest, throwing forms into deep shadows. Details of the composition emerge through careful observation: a figure driving cattle on the left, a fallen log outlined by the raking sunlight, and a large silhouetted tree. By softening contours and blurring forms, Inness evokes a sense of the spiritual essence of the natural world.” 

In many of my photos, I try to evoke the spiritual essence of the natural world. I am no George Inness, but my Leica has gotten me closer than I was able to get before. Goals are essential, even if they are often impossible. They make me better. And I am going to learn more and work harder. I’d love to have the skills to paint like that – perhaps the next time.

For some reason, Zip strikes a chord like that in me and my readers.

“Zip is not only becoming your companion,’ wrote Renae to me last night, “he is becoming a different lens through which you write and photograph. The changes are all for the better.”

I thought Renae was on to something. It’s too soon for me to say whether this change is for the better; it is exciting.  Something important is happening between us. I’ll be exploring it.

It is a joy to see Maria in a museum. She is transfixed, and while she is sometimes off in her world, I am happy to share this experience with her. It is fresher every time.

We walked through the Clark Museum (Williamstown, Mass.) together, and when I got tired – yesterday was a rough day, and I was hurting- I told her it was nothing but a great time together in the Museum, a gift to me. I knew it was too soon for a trek around a giant museum, but it was worth it – lunch at a Mexican restaurant and hours in a museum with Maria. In its own way, this is essential healing. What’s inside matters. There are lots of ways to get better.

 

This is another Inness photo of a farmer watching his cattle while he fishes.

I don’t know the names of all the artists I was drawn to or whose works I photographed; my head isn’t entirely clear enough yet to remember their names, and I hate getting hung up on names, as is evident to my readers. My mind doesn’t work that way.

As expected, I was exhausted when we got home and returned to rest. I could go and walk around for hours, which is a big deal. My brain bleed was a landmark event in my late middle age, and I wasn’t dizzy at the Museum. This is good news.

I’ll be thinking about my brain bleeding for a while and recovering for a little while more. This was a sacrifice very much worth it; I loved every minute of it, and something is healing about going to a museum with Maria. It felt wonderful. Maria’s commitment to her art is inspirational and profound.

 

My idea of a beautiful portrait, I can’t believe those colors. I’m not sure any photograph can meet that. But it makes me want to try. That’s what creativity is all about, painting or pictures or words – stirring emotions and spirituality that people can sometimes feel. I can see that a new barn cat can do that as well.

The museum guard told me the story of the British metal worker who was not allowed to work with silver or gold in Europe because he was a Jew. He fled to the United States and became the most popular silver artist in the colonies. I’ve never stopped in a museum to look at silver, but the art in his work was breathtaking. The spirit of the artist is stronger than any politician who ever lived. This man had heart, and I was happy for him.  Stupidity and bigotry are doomed to fail.

It is beautiful to see Maria in a museum; she is transported to another place, and I try to back off and leave her alone as often as possible so she can absorb the art she loves without distraction. I didn’t need to capture her face; her body language and wonder speaks loudly for itself.