Painting: A Sunday Outing

Mr. Renaissance called me to ask if I'd like to accompany him to the museum to look at paintings of the Old Masters. Of course I said yes. I met him in the vestibule of my building; he was wearing the jeans of his that I like best, a red plaid button down with a t-shirt underneath, and his leather jacket. I wore my burgundy turtleneck sweater, pale jeans, and grey polar fleece jacket.

We parked close to the furniture store I walked around inside yesterday. I showed him the crimson velour chaise lounge I covet, and he agreed with me that it's "great."

Once inside the museum, we went up to the third floor and began with the Baroque period. Walking beside him like that, looking into his eyes behind his thin, black, oval shaped frames, I felt so much love for him. His hair was so delightfully messy! I saw a couple of gray strands, and I smiled to myself that someone with such a boyish face could have hints of age beginning to show.

After the Asian Art section, where we ended, we walked over to the library so he could get a card, listened to a bit of a set the jazz band was playing, and then walked across the street to the Basillica. We only stayed for a few moments, in truth, I wish we could have sat down, prayed, just been silent--together--for a few minutes.

I was so aware of wanting him to kiss me; I was so aware of my desire to let myself love him without checking it.

But I don't know who I am yet. Not yet.