Back story: I’ve attended the opening of the art gallery in the peace region for four years now and drawn inspiration from it that art to write in the Ekphrastic contest.
This year was a little more commitment.
Which is fine. I don’t mind putting in the time and money to drive two hours each way and pay for a hotel to cover the fact I don’t want to drive home near midnight.
Specially because it happened to be snowing that night. Yup, snowing in May.
So I enjoyed my drive up, over the mountain and through the windmills (check out my tiktok here)
And I had enough time to check into my hotel and arrive at the art gallery on time, which isn’t my norm, if I’m being honest. Perpetually late I am.
Anyway, I walk in (actually down to {the stairs}) to the art gallery. I can hear live music which is cool and there’s free food which is extra cool and there’s only a few people inside which is super cool.
I walk around the tiny gallery and peruse the pictures, paintings, sculptures, indigenous earrings (which I so wish I could afford to buy!) and eventually I meet the new executive director which is extra super cool.
I stand for a bit and listen to the live music (which is literally one guy and one girl – a cappella singing) and I sway as much as I’m comfortable to sway in public that looks a little like dancing but not. There’s this little baby boy that walks up and touches the woman’s hand then turns and runs back to his mom. He’s a got a soother but also a grin saying, ‘i touched the singing ladies hand.’ It was utterly adorable!
Shortly after that, more people begin showing up. I feel more and more pushed to the corner of the room as there isn’t much space to move around any longer. I buy myself a pop (by a hefty $5 donation) and try to do another casual circle of the art.
That’s when I begin bumping into people. I brushed a blanket on a table that was part of the art show and nearly clipped the edge of a painting on its stand on the floor.
My overactive imagination began to tell me that at this point, I would knock something over and destroy someone’s art.
So I had a quick convo with the lady by the coat rack. The lady I had assumed was the baby boys mom. I said how cute it was that he was so proud of running up to the singing woman. Turns out, the woman singing was his mom and the woman I was speaking to was his grandmother. What a DOH moment. We laughed though, then I bid her a due and left.
Within two minutes of leaving the gallery, I found myself back at my hotel room. A whopping 15 minutes after I initially left for the art gallery.
Long story short- I drove a total of 4 hours, paid $200 for hotel, gas, and food to spend 15 minutes in an art gallery that just as quickly spiked my social anxiety and I was out!
Was it worthwhile?
Yes.
Being a writer, I am legitimately the definition of a recluse. I am 100% happy staying at home and writing. Day in, day out.
I got some networking in and then spent the rest of my evening in a jacuzzi tub writing my poems for the Ekphrastic writing contest. 100% hands down I would do that all again.
Oh, and I finished reading my latest comic that I actually teared up from (first time ever with a comic book!) -SweetTooth
So to all of you friends that think a small amount of time means nothing in the grand scheme, for those of us suffering from anxiety, those shorts are actually huge.
Much love
Norma Rrae
