When we entered the large entrance hall of the museum and the door closed behind us I could have sworn that Sarah was almost leaning against the wall. As if all the tension was released from her, her hands trembled a little but she held herself upright.
I looked at her worried, wishing I could find the right words but I still felt like I was in a world whose rules I didn't understand.
Surely it was not the paparazzi and reporters in general, she must have been used to that. It was, I suspected the questions he asked her. But I didn't dare to ask.
I put my hand on her upper arm, I wasn't sure if she could even feel the little gesture through her coat.
She looked at me gratefully, I didn't need to say anything. I saw a flicker of pain in her eyes for a brief moment. But she had regained her composure at the same moment. Posture straight and confident. However, not as stubborn as on the way in, but a little more relaxed.
Sarah put on a smile and I felt that it wasn't real but said nothing. I was impressed with your strength.
We strolled towards the exhibition. I got nervous again and turned the little silver ring on my finger. A habit that I just couldn't get rid of.
I took a deep breath to at least not let the excitement show. A thousand fireflies in my stomach.
In the first exhibition room were no pictures but sculptures. We were looking at them. It was very quiet, but it was not an unpleasant silence.
Where others only saw stone I saw so much more ... Major areas of the collection included Italian and French sculpture in marble, bronze, and terracotta. Italian bronzes, goldsmithwork, maiolica, and glass; French and German porcelain.
To be honest, I was not an expert in sculpture. But every now and then something from my studies seemed familiar to me.
I let my eyes slide away from the figures and now I looked at Sarah. Her cheekbones in the light, she thoughtfully bit her lower lip. A thing that I had often observed her doing during interviews or scenes in a movie. I wonder if she was still thinking about the reporter. Her dress flowing around her, dangling in waves around her legs.
She herself was a work of art.
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One that until recently I had never thought to see in real life.
Among all the art, she was the most beautiful in the whole room and I couldn't help but capture the moment. I photographed her in front of a sculpture.
She smiled when she noticed that I was taking a picture of her, just at the right moment. That's what I liked about photos, no matter how much the people in the picture change, the moment and the picture stay the same forever.
She stood next to a bronze sculpture with the inscription "Adam, or The Creation of Man" and imitated its pose. I had to laugh. If there was one thing I loved about her, it was her humour. This complete openness and willingness to make a complete fool of herself for a laugh.
It became a game, we imitated more and more sculptures. Next to a sculpture called "The Age of Bronze". I put my arm on my head and looked theatrically into the air.
Sarah stood next to "Hercules the Archer", stroking a hair behind her ear and bending an imaginary bow. She slowly turned to me. Concentrated, she closed one eye.
I looked at her in amusement. And then she let go, the imaginary arrow rushing through the air. I faked a hit and staggered back a few steps.
"You hit my heart." I whined playfully and touched my chest, I was not aware of the ambiguity of my words.
"I hope so." She said and winked at me.
Was she flirting with me? My head had taken on the color of a tomato and I was almost glad when we were interrupted by a throat clear.
Someone from the staff must have been watching and now stood there with a admonishing expression on his face and shook his head as if we were children who had not grasped the seriousness of the moment ans this place.
I looked at Sarah and my reaction was reflected in her. We couldn't resist giggling
I said quietly as I left the room, „For how long had she been watching us?!"
Sarah burst into laughter and I joined in.
It took some time until we calmed down and when I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes I looked around properly for the first time.
We were now in a room full of paintings and my heart was pounding. Because of Sarah, because of how happy I felt and because of all the paintings that I had only ever seen in pictures or on the Internet
"Oh okay I know this guy." Sarah said jokingly.
"It's a self portrait from 1887" I explained, looking at Vincent van Gogh's face.
She didn't say anything so I went on "The picture shows his awareness of the Neo-Impressionist technique and the color theory."
She nodded interested and then said "He has a haunted gaze." The portrait had one blue and one green eye. "Both pleads for our help and pushes us away"
I was irritated for a moment, she really understood the picture. Most people I knew might have appreciated the beautiful colors or the historical value but no one had ever understood a painting so quickly.
"It is said that it reveals van Gogh's crumbling health. The three-quarter profile, deep shadows, and tight mouth suggest a man suffering physical and emotional stress." I replied.
We let it sink in for a while and then she asked me "Which is your favorite painting?"
„Difficult question." I said "Well, I guess..." I thought for a moment...
"It's called the cliffs of Etretat by Monet."
"Can you show it to me?" She asked and I was kind of touched by her interest it was so much more than I expected.
"Unfortunately it's not here, it's in Williamstown."
"Etretat?" She said, "Isn't that French?"
I nodded. And she said "I'm always down for a trip to france."
„Croissant for breakfast, a visit to the louvre and in the evening a walk on the beach in etreat." She enthused.
"Count me in!" I said laughing.
Paris the city of love. I banished the voice from my head.
We looked at a few more paintings and no matter what I explained to her she always listened sincerely and often brought her own interpretations. The time went by so fast. When we went outside it was already dark.
It was quiet and I didn't dare to say anything, I was knew that we had to say goodbye now. A tight feeling formed in my throat. I didn't know when I would see her again next time and was not yet ready for the day to end. But she said completely unexpectedly..
"Can you show me your atelier?"
To be continued ...
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I really hope I don't get in trouble for the nudity of the sculpture haha
