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Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #909602
poetic philosophical thoughts
Columbus Zoo

 

Let’s go to the Art Musuem, I begged my resistant kids.
We can visit the zoo tomorrow.
 
Animals in cages. It’s not as if they are in
their natural habitat. Much better to help my children
discover true art. They must see the Impressionist
exhibit, “From Matisse to Monet,” before it moved
to another museum. So they wanted to see the baby
gorilla and the baby elephant! We could do that any day.
 
It was a small museum.
The paintings were breathtaking.
Framed appropriately, spaced carefully.
On exhibit.
 
Each in their own cage.
 
My seven year old son reached to touch
the vibrantly textured impressions of life.
I cautioned him to stand back. Art is to
look at, I reminded him.
 
Don’t touch.
Don’t feed the animals.
 
I tried to draw my teenage daughter
to Monet’s paintings. I wanted her to see what I saw,
experience what I felt. Words are such poor symbols.
 
“Don’t analyze so much,” she stated emphatically.
How could I tell her what it was I was trying to
share with her? I didn’t want to analyze the paintings.
I wanted to “be” them. Feel the wind blowing
on Monet’s sunflowers, hide under the weeping willow
in the incredible depth of greens he had created.
 
I would not cage the artist’s work.
 
The children quickly tired of simply looking.
We found our way to the main floor kid’s
exhibit. Paper and markers soon enabled my son to
create his own impressionistic artwork.
Dress-up clothing made to match
the attire in the dutch master’s paintings upstairs
allowed my son and daughter to become
a painting in motion.
 
Art roams free.


© Copyright 2004 Lizzy Bell (a_williston at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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