(which, thanks to five midterms in seven days, has been a lot lately)
more often than not, I find myself here,
in the Brigham Young University Museum of Art,
reflecting on Carl Bloch's Healing at the Pool of Bethesda.
and I think about Christ.
crying and cleansing and feeling.
There's something quiet and sacred about museums
that will dissipate any and all anger or anxieties of mine
in nearly an instant.
BYU is currently exhibiting art by the Weir family--
a father and two sons, all painters. There's something terribly romantic and American about that, isn't there?
my favorite painting of the day...
self portrait with soft hat by Julian Weir
..but I always have been partial to impressionistic styles, haven't I.
Though that isn't to say I didn't thoroughly enjoy the more academic feel of his brother, John Weir.
Forrest of Fontainebleu
The Grand Canal, Venice
The MOA also currently has an exhibition featuring Whistler etchings.
Be still my heart.
One simply must top off an afternoon like that
with a vanilla steamer.
full cream, thank you.
According to today,
I'm a lover of all things rich, as it were.