Heath and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary a few weeks ago. For those of you who haven’t heard the story of how we met, fell in love, and eloped three weeks later, you can read it here. It’s a story I enjoy telling and not a day goes by that I don’t Thank God for ignoring societal norms and doing what I believed in my heart was the right thing to do.
Our Wedding, February 12th, 2016, Nashville Courthouse
This year we decided to celebrate by going out to lunch. I posted on Facebook asking for suggestions. One of my friends recommended that we try a restaurant in Mystic, CT, and then head to the Mystic Seaport Museum to see The Turner Watercolor Exhibit. People around Norfolk have been talking about this exhibit for weeks. It seemed like a good idea and we haven’t been on any grand adventures lately, so we decided to make that our anniversary outing.
If you’re unfamiliar (as I was), J.M.W. Turner (1775-1851) was a master watercolorist, who painted a lot of maritime seascapes. His collection is permanently on display at the Tate Museum in London and this exhibit is the first time some of his pieces have been on tour. Before stopping at Mystic, which is the only North American stop, the collection was exhibited in Rome, Buenos Aries, and Santiago. Up next will be Paris.
If you’re thinking one of these cities is not like the others, you’d be right. Except when the Mystic Seaport Museum designed and built the Thompson Exhibition Building (opened in 2016), they specifically wanted to create a building worthy of a Turner. So there’s something to be said for aiming high and acting on your dreams.
Anyway, Heath and I drove the nearly two hours to Mystic. We had lunch and then hit the exhibit. And to be quite honest, I was underwhelmed. Sure, I can look at Turner’s pictures and see beauty in them. And the light in some of them was outstanding. But I didn’t feel any sort of joy that I usually do with watercolor. Here’s the one I liked best from the exhibit:
In hindsight, I think I got caught up in the fear of missing out. Never before exhibited! Only one stop in North America! Last week of the exhibit!
Compare our Turner experience to the one Heath and I had yesterday. It was the first day of Winter Weekend in Norfolk, a town-wide festival celebrating all things Norfolk. We signed up for a Clay Play experience at Botelle Elementary, sponsored by the Norfolk NET Makerspace and hosted by the Botelle Elementary art teacher. Essentially, we were given a hunk of clay and told we could do whatever we want with it.
Not having a good imagination for what I could do with clay, I watched what others were doing. I ended up making a cup. I then branched out to making a pet rock. And a Kelly Was Here stone for that inevitable day when we leave Norfolk. My plan is to leave the stone in the woods somewhere so I’ll always know a physical piece of me will be here.
Such simple creations and yet I was thrilled with the outcomes!
We also had a blast listening to great music, getting to know the other participants, sharing our funniest food poisoning stories (not sure how we got on that topic), and just laughing in general.
Then there was watching Heath get into his sculpture. I couldn’t have asked for a better anniversary gift to see the person I love most in the world find something he enjoys and something he has natural talent for (not my words, but the words of a local artist who is quite talented).
After our Clay Play experience, we came home, made lunch, and watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy (we’re currently in season 12 SO NO SPOILERS PLEASE). I then napped on the couch and spent the rest of the day writing.
When I think of the intention I set at the start of 2020 for prioritizing connections in my life, today was a perfect day. I couldn’t have asked for anything more and it didn’t involve grand plans or much effort.
For this experience, I am grateful. I am blessed. Thank you, God. Thank you, Heath. Thank you, Ms. Bazelmans (that’s the art teacher). Thank you to everyone who showed up. And thank you Smudge. That nap was most excellent.
