My art, my life
My walls were speaking to me about my depression. And then they spoke to me about it relieving.
When I first saw Andrew Wyeth’s Christina’s World, it was in poster form. A man was selling famous art posters in the campus quad alongside other student groups, and Christina was centered among the works. I spotted her and stopped very abruptly, turned red, and ran in the opposite direction. I thought that the minute I walked into the open, everyone would know that *I* was actually Christina.
Narcissism aside, I had the reaction above because the painting spoke to me about something, though I didn’t know what it was. My instincts told me to try looking at it again, and I ended up returning to the seller later that week. I gave the print pride of place in my newlywed living room.
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