Going to the Kimball

A haunting piece from “Notes To Stephanie: Days Remembered”. The colors of art, the images, and what could have been.

We went to the Kimball Museum more than once. Both of us liked art and enjoyed going to Fort Worth’s museum district to visit the Kimball and the Amon Carter, which was my favorite.

I am not some art “nut,” but I do like looking at pictures. Having good art myself, something other than pictures of sports or girls in bikinis, I appreciated and enjoyed looking at works by great and famous artists.

The exhibit I remember the most seeing with you was the impressionist show. Works by Monet, Van Gogh, and others adorned the walls of the museum with their splendor. I always liked art like that since it reminded me of abstract painting, which my mom had when I grew up. The soft colors and less defined shapes gave those paintings a dreamlike quality, which always appealed to me.

We went to the Kimball that Sunday with throngs of other art lovers to see the works inside. We walked from picture to picture and gazed at them all. You were wearing a pair of the headphones the museum rented out, which played a recording explaining the paintings. As we walked by one framed image, you repeated to me some of what they were saying on the recordings. We took a bit more than an hour to look at them all, not lingering on a particular painting like some of the patrons did. Even though our time there was short, it was fun and refreshing to see the works.

After the Kimball, we went downtown to the Flying Saucer, had a couple of beers, and sat and talked about stuff going on. We strolled around Sundance Square and went into the Sid Richardson gallery to look at their western art since we did not go to the Amon Carter that day. Couldn’t forget those Remingtons and Russells, could we? After awhile there, we were ready to go home and call it a day. We drove back to the house—our minds filled with images of great paintings of the masters of the past.

That day was very good with you. It was a fun and intellectual time together. We did things like that more than once since you and I did have that in common. These were things sometimes not well liked by the mainstream, however. We were a little different than most folks in that way. Our hobbies and life philosophies were sometimes out on the edge of the bell curve of possibilities, but neither of us ever had an issue with that. The interests we had sometimes were the same; and when they were not, at least we could appreciate what the other liked or thought.

Some couples argue about things like hobbies or what to watch on TV, but we never did that. Instead, we argued about other things that in the end hurt us both. We should have remembered the times we had at places like the Kimball. Both of us should have strived to imitate the grace and beauty in the museum pictures in our own life together. If we had done that, the canvas of our memories would have been painted with far brighter colors than they were in the end.

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