We decided to kill time at an art gallery before continuing our journey home. Out of the three stories– two, if you excluded the workspaces of the artists– we wandered around the second floor the most. The colors and nature scenes drew us in where the sepia of the colonial map exhibit didn’t. We had more than enough time to admire and relish over each painting and artist commentary. We were even in time for an artist showcase of sorts– each one on the second floor would describe themselves and their art while standing next to the display. They were phenomenal, and the art was incredible– I wish we had time to listen to every single artist.

I even inadvertently got into some audience participation!

(A pause as the introverts take a moment to gather themselves.)

There was one in particular that had business cards, too. Each had a word and a square of the artist’s quilt. I pocketed one, and thought nothing more of it. But when it was this artist’s turn to speak, she gave 5 women random cards from her piece Turns out these cards had a deeper purpose, too. So I frantically rummaged for the card in my bag and I was making my way up to the front with the others, I promise, despite the shyness– then one of the curators encouraged me with a little push, in excitement! (And I did appreciate it, in the moment.)

So that was an amazing experience; I’m tearing up thinking about it. The main idea of that is that different women have different words, and put them together to create a greater whole.

Also my partner pointed out: ain’t it funny that the BIPOC person had to be ushered to the front to be included? Because yes, I was the only one.

So it goes.