A frigid December night (and my birthday) found us at the Seattle Art Museum on the last day of the Impressionist gallery show. Crowds of people hummed about between the walls, bouncing from painting to painting. We allowed ourselves to be pushed along all the while trying to keep our calm among so many people. As I was moved past, I tried to hold the gaze of each painting for a moment, soaking up the colors, textures, and radical influence of these as-were penniless artists with their passion for light, life, and everyday rhythms.
Roommate was swept away into another room as I gazed at a pool of color, trying to dissect how it so perfectly expressed a bowl bruised peaches.
Finally catching up again, I found Roommate immobilized in front of a woman in blue with "Renoir" typed on her title plate. A thought ran through me the moment I laid eyes on her...sadness. A story to tell that no one had listened to. I stood by them both a while as she gazed, people jostling and maneuvering around us.
Back at home, the apartment felt expansive and calm after the bustle nd our conversation lulled quickly into thoughtful silence and bed. The next morning, Roommate sat at the table and, carefully, slowly, timidly, unfolded the play that was unraveling inside of her. History woven with what might have been said but no one ever heard. A woman, two men, and the threads that held them.
A week later we danced around the fantasy of traveling to where they lived -- of breathing their air, and listening to the rhythm of their language -- neither of us daring to hope that it could actually happen.
A month after that we found tickets we could just afford. With me still unemployed and Roommate choosing a time when she could be away from work, we bought the tickets, found a tiny apartment (hot plate and pull-out sofa included) in Montmartre for a month, and the rest will soon be history.
So many things are coming and there is so much I want to share with you all from how we managed to pull this off with two low-wage jobs, to the explorations we have planned both in our lives as artists and also in the city. Six word stories and watercolor paintings will also certainly be in the mix as well as food (of course).
So here goes! One week until we leave and counting!
If you want to stay updated, check back often or follow @seekthewelfare on facebook.