It must be a long, lonely, monotonous shift.
Pacing through their assigned rooms in the museum.
Looking at the same masterpieces, day after day.
Like being brainwashed by art.
And do you ever notice? They never make eye contact.
They just drift right by you, like ghosts.
Without so much as a “how ya doin?”
And the really creepy thing is, you can never tell what they’re thinking.
But I think I know.
They’re judging us.
Watch them closely. Every once in a while, when the curator has his back turned, they drift into one of the adjoining rooms and sidle up to one of their fellow guards.
And they whisper about us.
“Did you see that guy? Did you see what he did when he came up to the Bellegambe Annunciation? Didn’t even look at it. Just took a picture on his phone and walked away.”
“What’s he think he’s going to do with that picture? Pour himself a glass of Chardonnay one night, light a fire, and admire Bellegambe’s use of the grisaille technique on his phone?”
“I know his type. He’s a hoarder.”
“A hoarder of beauty.”
“He thinks if he can get all the beauty onto his phone, then he’ll possess it forever.”
“And find lasting joy and peace.”
“What a maroon.”
“They shouldn’t let guys like that into a museum. They just don’t get it.”
“I wish they’d given us take-down training. I’d take that guy down right now.”
Here is Jean Bellegambe’s Annunciation, ca. 1515-20, which hangs in the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore:
A welcome to all the new subscribers to The Comic Muse! (It was perhaps the busiest week yet for new subscribers.) It’s an honor to have you here!
My new novel, The Good Death of Kate Montclair, is now available on Amazon and at Chrism Press.
I'd love to be a security guard by a Van Gogh exhibit. How terrific it would be to soak in such gorgeous works all day!