Missed something

[talyen]

C. and I went to the Georgia O'Keefe exhibit last night at the UMMA. The exhibit is landscapes, to which I don't normally pay any attention, but hey, it's Georgia O'Keefe...

And it happened, like it always happens when I see art: I realize I'm standing in front of a real painting by a famous artist who placed the colors onto the canvas, who stood for hours or days getting it the way she wanted it to be. The pink on the edge of the yellow flower had to be just so, because that's how she saw it. Incredible. And she did it, and now I can see it.

Is it the permanence? Is it fame associated with the painting? Something happens to me that makes these paintings so much more real than even the original painting I have at home. And it's also different than looking at Ansel Adams photos, which I really like, but don't have the same effect that paintings have.

And afterwards, C. gave me a priceless gift. I don't know what's wrong with me (okay, sometimes i do), but I could see what it was, understand how amazing and truly awesome it was, and yet I couldn't feel the awe, the caring, the amazement, at the time. I lost out on how great the experience could have been, had I been able to truly feel right then. Damn.

Somehow, I have to improve my abilities, and fast. I don't want to miss out on anything else.

As it was, I was able to feel how extraordinary the gift was this morning, in my dining room, alone. I cried, and cried, and still I knew that I had lost out on something precious.

Comments

[sarahf.livejournal.com]

Well, tell her now. Express your awe now and explain it just as you did here. That's better than keeping it to yourself and she'll have some idea of what's happening to you. Better to be emotionally expressive when you can, rather than keep it hidden for fear of embarrassment. That way she won't get all confused or feel shut out.

Inquiring minds want to know: what was the gift? ;)

[talyen.livejournal.com]

An insight into her self. And she's beautiful.