6/1/2019

The night had brought about a party.
The foyer inside became alive with aiguillette and ribbons, common luxury and evening dresses.
There was even a man in the back of the room playing quiet and soft renditions of Satie's famous Gymnopédies.
Then I remember out of the corner of my eye I saw something sparkle from the top of the balcony.
Surely just a strange occurrence I thought. But as I would moved about the foyer still, something glistened.

Up the grand wooden stair case I ascended to a hall about forty meters long filed with the most beautiful paintings you could possibly imagine.
From portraits of women in stunning dresses to mountains of foreign countrysides.
I saw wonder, misfortune, danger and heartfelt cries.
There were sinking ships succoming to  crashing waves while many more battled on more violently, honoring their dead.
There were paintings that that reminded me of home where the sun always seemed sink down into brilliant clouds red.
And at the end of the hall was a simple mirror.
What I saw was a portrait of a man who was isolated amoung gold and silver. Who lived silent within a crowded life.
Who had mysterious eyes that even now I to struggled to describe.
I believe enchantment has a place for us all, even amoung the granduer of life we find ourselfs walking into from time to time.
I was a reflection of how I painted myself, how I saw myself that day.
And still to this very moment, I find the strength to put it out on display.