Over the  last couple of years I finally got around to visiting art galleries and museums.

In my heart of hearts I always wanted to be Indiana Jones before Indiana Jones ever existed.

Museums  were always places I loved but didn’t learn to appreciate until I actually had the time to wander through them as opposed to just walking through them.

Art was another kettle of fish.

I just didn’t get it.

On one trip I learned how to stand in different places in front of a painting and at different spots on the floor and then to look at the painting and surprise!

I got it.

I learned to see a painting and then I finally saw them.

It was like when I put on my eye glasses for the first time and was I stunned! I had no idea before then that the world wasn’t this colorful mess.

It had definition and depth.

Who knew?

So after a few trips my favorite artist became Franz Von Stuck:

In my mind Franz was to painting like M.R James was to writing- they seemed to capture nightmares in pitch perfect harmony.

They weren’t afraid to look into the darkness and be there without a flashlight to guide them.

After all, life is like that.

Sometimes you have to step into that darkness, go down into the basement, climb into the attic to find what’s there, to see what is there and to know it.

I’ll have to admit it’s not easy, but it’s SO worth the trip because I have learned it is too sweet to be able to say

“Veni, vidi, vici! ”

Behold, the eye- what an amazing thing it is.