Justin's Response to CMA Exhibit

Charles Burchfield: “Midsummer Caprice” 1945

Watercolor on Paper (40” x 30”?)

Columbus Museum of Art

Vacation. Holiday. Escape. Retreat.

Departure. Duration. Destination. Detachment.

(pause)

My shadow is directly underneath me. My shirt is a moist barrier between my tense torso and a backpack. The deep, recuperative breaths I am attempting singe the back of my throat and the dust and pollen are unavoidable. I gingerly raise my hand to shield my eyes from the glare coming off the radiating field. My eyes begin to take stock of the abundance of wildflowers that populate the tall, scorched grasses. Their colors become even more dramatic as they battle the oppressive light.

(pause)

Everything in still, less the monarch perched in front of me. Indifferent to my intrusive arrival, it tirelessly works the land while I attempt to rid myself of my “to do” list.

What deadlines does a butterfly have? What is on their “to do” list? Do they have a “plan” for their life? Do they go on vacation? What do they want, or need, to get away from? If they never leave the only place they know, does that mean they are never forced to choose? Can they leave? If so, would they feel obligated to come back? Could another field ever be considered home? Should it? Will it?

I continue to stare. While the cool, expansive sky attempts to lower itself, the prevailing heat below has its’ way. The only thing the sky can do is to wait until the sun has ran its’ predetermined course. That’s all any one can do. That’s all I can (HONK-HOOOOONK--double blast from a horn startles the reader)

“Bus leaves in 2 minutes!”