JOSEPH BURROWS: Relaxing Is Worth a Thousand Memories, college honorable mention

I convinced two of my friends to come down with me to the Albany Museum of Art. The museum, which opened its doors to the public in 1983, is located at 311 Meadowlark Drive in Albany Georgia. As we arrived at the museum I could see some abstract art statues situated by the entrance, as if guarding the entrance to the museum. As the cool AC blew into our faces, we were met by a friendly woman from the gift shop who asked us if we wanted a tour of the museum. The tour felt so catered to me and my friends: we could ask any question that came into mind and our tour guide had an answer. As our guide took us into the Katie Bacon exhibit room, I instantly had my full attention on “Under the Umbrella in Hilton Head.”

As I came closer to the portrait everything else in the room seemed to not matter, the sound of our tour guide began to be drowned out with the sound of gleeful seagulls chirping and begging for food. As my eyes followed the brush strokes of the sand, I could feel the hot sun pressing on my bare skin and tiny sand particles blowing through the wind and kissing my skin. As I looked at the sun drift closer to the water and the strokes of yellow increase making it appear that it was late in the afternoon, I was being flooded with many warm and comforting thoughts. Bacon displays the slow and calm transition from day to night by having darker shades of sky blue and only slight hints of sunlight yellow to the right of the portrait. As I continued to gaze at the portrait, I saw three distinct images: two beachgoers relaxing on beach chairs, children playing around sandcastles, and a pile of driftwood with a volleyball. It appeared as if the artist had reached into my own subconscious and displayed what she found. I could feel the portrait taking me in and transporting me back to when I first went to the beach with my parents.

It was June of 2006 and I was six years old. My family had decided to go to Myrtle Beach in South Carolina this year so I could see and feel what the beach was like. When we arrived I helped my sister, who is ten years older and is prone to startle seizures, out of the car. I was hit with the calming scent of the beach, and I could feel a few sand particles blow into my face and stick to my sweaty forehead. As we began to make our way to the water we crossed an old wooden bridge that stretched over some dunes. The wood looked similar to the pile of wood that was in the portrait. As I looked at the unfocused image of driftwood on Bacon’s portrait I could feel the smooth dry wood gliding across my fingers and smell the mixture of aged wood with the scent of the salty sea.

As we finished traversing the long and weathered bridge, we made it to the beach. Scanning my surroundings all I could see, for what seemed like miles, were blue beach umbrellas and many bright and colorful towels scattered up and down the beach. Bacon’s use of blue umbrellas and beach chairs, in the center of the portrait, struck me the most out of all the elements in her piece. Blue umbrellas have been in many of my memories as a child, from when I first learned to swim, to being on the last vacation with my grandmother. As my family made our way to our own blue umbrella and beach chairs, I asked my mom when we are going to go play mini-golf or go to the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum. She turned and looked at me with a compassionate yet irritated look and said, “Son you need to relax, one of these days you’re going to want to take your time and enjoy the smaller things in life. Now go take your sister down with you to the water.” I just rolled my eyes and took my sister by the hand and slowly traversed the terrain to get us close to the water.

My sister wanted to make sand castles and sit on the beach where the water came up and splashed on her legs. As we sat and struggled to make a free standing castle that pleased us both, I decided to scan over and see what some other kids had made. Some kids made what seemed like sandy ant mounds, while one kid with nylon swim trunks, thick black glasses, and short spikey hair made a nice Hogwarts like castle with a moat. Seeing other kids having fun playing with their imagination upset me as a child because I wanted to go out and have fun playing mini-golf or seeing strange exhibits from the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum, but instead I was making sand mounds with my sister. Bacon’s use of the image with the sandcastles and children walking in the background reminded me of how impatient I was as a child and how unwilling I was to enjoy my time with my sister for selfish reasons.

As I studied the entire portrait, feeling every reoccurring memory as if it were happening in the moment, the sudden feeling of realization washed over me like a tidal wave. This portrait was the embodiment of what my mother told me since I was a little kid, which is to relax and take in everything because before you know it you will be wishing to have it all back again. I stood before the portrait letting my memories mix with the picture, allowing the artist to explain without any words what my mother has been telling me for years.