My schedule gave me a spare hour and a half between meetings and I
decided to go to one of the world's great art galleries, the Art
Institute of Chicago. But I got held up and then losing my sense of
direction completely ended up walking all the way round the block (the
entrance I wanted to use is closed because there's a lot of building
work going on), so I'm rushing up the front steps with barely
twenty-five minutes left.
I buy my ticket and present it to
the lady in uniform. With so little time I know exactly what I want to
see: "Could you tell me where the Mary Cassatts are please?" She looks
at me and at the bag I'm carrying. We both look at the cloakroom where
there is a queue of people. She says quietly "You'd better leave that
behind my desk and come through." It turns out that what I want is
across the far side of the building, and getting there (partly because
of the building work) involves several tricky turns and changes of
level. But her instructions are clear and five minutes later I am
standing in front of the painting I particularly want to see.

I
know there is something sentimental about this and I don't care. In a
foreign country, four thousand miles away from our own children, who
are all well past the stage of needing to be bathed, I look at this
image of love and innocence until it begins to blur a little. The
gallery is closing, and more slowly now I retrace my steps. I pick up
my bag from the lady at the gate, and thank her, but my throat feels
tight and the voice unusually high-pitched. I go out into the Chicago
sunshine, light-headed with a sense of release.
Such an intimate image of mother and child. I could also feel my throat tightening as I looked at this picture and read your post today. Thank you for sharing it, Mr.C.
Posted by: Lisa W | 30 June 2008 at 10:56 AM
What a lovely post. I've stood before the Cassatts at the Art Institute of Chicago many times, but saw this one anew, with you, with fresh eyes. Thanks!
Posted by: peri | 30 June 2008 at 07:23 PM
This is an absolutely beautiful post ... it reads like the beginning (or part) of a short story.
Posted by: Angela Young | 30 June 2008 at 07:48 PM
What an amazingly touching piece of art. Thank you for sharing with us.
Posted by: Mrs C | 30 June 2008 at 10:19 PM
I love domestic paintings and your piece to accompany it captures your mood so well. When you said you might post on the trip I was thinking more travelogue. What a lovely surprise to get that instead. Thank you.
Posted by: Claire | 01 July 2008 at 09:39 AM
Gareth - I've just read your comment on Karen's post of yesterday! What a lovely priority to fulfil, with all the sentiment behind it, so far away from home. I've always known my precious grandchildren are in safe hands! Granny.
Posted by: Your mother-in-law ! | 01 July 2008 at 12:09 PM
My immediate reaction: how wonderful! Thank you.
Posted by: Deirdre | 01 July 2008 at 05:48 PM
Exquisite.
Posted by: Fiberjoy | 03 July 2008 at 04:48 AM
I loved your writing. I am actually reading now a book about her and this painting is on the cover. I'm also hoping to go to an exhibit of her work this summer. Wonderful paintings of domestic life.
Posted by: Nan | 05 July 2008 at 02:30 PM