Every spring my family and I attend an annual art show, held at an historic site. It’s been tradition, for almost as long as I can remember. As kids, we would always be given a scavenger hunt paper at the front door: find a painting with five dogs in it, how many red barns can you spot, can you find a sculpture made out of marble? We’d work together, give each other hints until we found everything. I know there was a prize at the end, but I don’t remember what it was. We’ve all grown taller now, so we don’t get scavenger hunt papers anymore, unfortunately. I did glance to see if they still had them, and I didn’t see any. Perhaps the children of today are not as lucky as we were in our youth, without any artistic scavenger hunts.
It was a cloudy and humid day with puddles reminding us of the morning rain. There’s something about this kind of weather that makes my allergies worse than usual, and from the time I woke up, I knew it was going to be a sneezy day. Then put me in an old (and somewhat musty) building and I WILL NOT stop sneezing. Since it’s hereditary, my family knows better than to say “bless you” after every sneeze. They say, “bless you for the rest of the day” and that’s that. However, the strangers throughout the building just trying to look at art peacefully couldn’t have known this and gave their blessings anyway.
The first floor of the building is where the larger (and most sizably priced) art pieces are displayed, many by well-known artists from the area. Room after room full of art, some old and some new. I wish I had remembered to choose my favorite among them, but I was too busy sneezing, I think. These photos are from upstairs, where the smaller pieces are kept. Some of them are so pretty, I’d like to fill an entire bedroom wall with tiny little frames, instead of wallpaper. And I would paint them myself in order to make that happen, however, I have no talent for painting. Truely, it’s something I am absolutely no good at. (Insert a horrified Lady Catherine de Bourgh scoffing at the fact that I do not draw).
There are so many paintings each year, they resort to hang them over the windows, so there this odd sense of dimension to the art. There’s a canvas with its colorful display, then the frame, then behind it a sheet of glass encased in its own frame (aka the window), and then another display beyond that, one of nature.
These old ruins have intrigued me since forever and seeing them from afar makes them look all the more mysterious. It reminds me of Jane Eyre. P.S. who else thinks that Mr. Rochester is totally creepy and not romantic at all? Anybody?
Being out in the fresh air again seemed to lessen my sneezing, long enough to get some photos outside. And a big thanks to the lady who offered to take a few pictures of my sister and me, even though I had my eyes closed in all of them, as I usually do.
Despite the allergies, it was a wonderful day spent with people I love, and filled with childhood flashbacks. There’s really nothing like the feeling of reliving a day from your past. It was so familiar, yet still new. And nothing makes you feel more like a kid again than running around some old ruins.
And here is a completely unrelated photo of Raisin and Charlotte the sheep, being absolutely adorable.
dress: Little Women Atelier
How do you deal with Spring allergies?
What kind of art is your favorite?
Have you read Jane Eyre? If yes, seriously why did he think it was a good idea to dress up like a gypsy? Why?!