Painting in the Window


Painting in the Window (280 Words)

I always wondered who put the picture there. It had been hanging on the bedroom wall when we moved in, and neither Cal nor I seemed to want it down. It surprised me that Cal didn’t complain. He was always a little impatient of art, calling it frivolous and fanciful. As an artist myself, I took his criticisms in stride with a few remarks of my own about the ship models that were all his pride and joy.

“That’s just a kind of art, too, you know,” I said.

He looked up from painting the hull of a Spanish galleon. “But this is real,” he said. “Not like that.”

“Sure,” I said. “You can sail your tiny boat anywhere.”

He laughed and I saw his eyes go to that strange painting. I saw him looking at it sometimes, and his interest intrigued me.

“It’s kind of weird, isn’t it,” I said. “A painting in a window frame.”

“Oh I don’t know.” He tapped the end of his brush on his chin. “It makes perfect sense to me.”

“How’s that?”

“We’re looking through a window.” He spread his hands expressively. “Outside are all the usual things. Birds. Plants. Maybe butterflies. But then you hear it and you realize.”

I took the brush from him before he dripped paint on the floor. “You mean the musical notes?”

“Exactly.” He looked down at his model ship, the plastic parts scattered, looking like puzzle pieces. Then he raised his eyes and stretched his hand to me. “Maybe the artist is saying something about the beauty in everything, even in the in-between spaces. The beauty we can’t always see but that is always, always here.”


Written as a response to this beautiful painting featured on, “Kew Gardens Antiqued Wall Mirror.” Check it out! Image (c)

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