343. Absorbed By It

He didn’t expect to visit the art museum that day. He was called into work because of an emergency, but soon after he got there, they discovered the problem was outside his area of responsibility and he wasn’t needed. He was annoyed and on his way home when he saw the sign advertising free admission.

He wandered in with no knowledge of the current exhibition and no expectations. He didn’t even know where to go or what to see. He simply followed the other visitors, going wherever they went and seeing whatever they saw.

He would pause for a moment or two in front of each artwork and try to discover something in it. The others seemed enraptured by certain pieces, but he couldn’t understand what they were seeing. They were nice paintings and that was all. Or at least that was what he thought until he saw it.

It was a piece unlike the others. Not only was it more exciting than the rest, he found he couldn’t pull his eyes away. It was undeniably beautiful, but it was also more. It seemed to be saying something he needed to hear. It was telling him a secret that he somehow knew was absolutely true.

People came and went while he stood there in awe. Some would stop to look more carefully, while others offered it nothing more than a quick glance before waddling off. Fools, he thought, they can’t see what they’re missing!

After an unknown amount of time, he began to feel self-conscious. He was still standing there, slack-jawed, absorbed by it, and shouldn’t he move on to the other pieces? But move he could not. He could not bring his attention to another artwork for more than a second. His focus was still locked on it, even when he couldn’t actually see it.

Finally, he decided that fighting such a powerful feeling was ridiculous, and he allowed himself to return. Again it was majestic, again it spoke to him clearly. He felt connected to it and this connection brought him a kind of joy he could not recall feeling before. He realized he had been hungry his entire life, and only now had he finally discovered food.

He stayed with it until he was forced to leave, and even then he felt he could not go. The security officer had to remind him twice that the museum was closing. Eventually he acquiesced, but not without a sharp feeling of loss. He vowed to return the next day after work, to see if it would still be the same.