Van Gogh Exhibit

After driving back from New Hampshire last night, having dinner with the fam, and shlubbing all of my post holiday baggage back into the city, I had just about 14 hours to repack and head to the airport to make my flight to New Orleans.

But some where in there, I found it immensely important to walk in the rain to the Met to see the Van Gogh exhibit. I have not only been anticipating in my dreams but have also made plans on numerous occasions to attend, though I am over worked and slept through every attempt.

For the better part of my art appreciating life, Van Gogh has been both an inspiration and an artist of intrigue. Starry Night was on my first credit card, though it is not one of my personal favorites. I like his drawings. His ability to take lines and create illusion of detail. His ability to sketch human life and his use of the working class rather than nobility. And in his paintings, I am amazed by Van Gogh's vivid use of color.

At seven in the morning, I woke up to finish packing. The exhibit opened at nine and in order to make my flight I had to be there at 9 exactly. Which of course didn't happen. I had to buy an umbrella, make a stop at both, of my banks and get a cup of coffee which led me to the bottom of the steep museum stairs at about 9:20am. There was a line to get into the museum, a line to check your coat, buy a ticket enter the exhibit. I spent about 40 minutes over all in the hall filled with 113 total works. And I took a moment, stopped and stared at about 85 percent of the pieces displayed. I wish I had more time.

I stood breathless in the crowd being pushed in either direction. Every one wanting to read the note of get a closer look at each drawing. The crowd only piled up more and more, with the lines getting longer and longer. I am frantically running out of time.

As I walked out of the museum and shuffled my way home in the rain, there was a line nearly three blocks long to get into the museum. I had never seen a line so long that only allowed admittance to the museum. And still there were more and more roped off areas designated for waiting before one could enter the exhibit. But I had made it through. And it was worth every frustration.

The exhibit ends December 31st. And every time I flip through one of my many books featuring the art of Van Gogh, I will always be grateful for my 40 minutes of crowded anxious wonder.