Traveling with Art

— My desire to be an enigma

A hand drawn tile pattern I named 'center of the universe'

I studied abroad with a guy who traveled with art. He brought five different pieces: a few in charcoal, one in oil pastel, and another in watercolor.

"You gotta have art."

I didn't understand.

He started to explain who the artists were, their background, how he met them...

My ears stopped listening as I dove into thinking how impractical it was. If I'd carried art, I'd be tired of looking at them before boarding the plane.

Instead of directing my attention back to what he was saying, I started day dreaming.

'I want to be a cultured person who travels with art. Wouldn't it be cool to say: "Yea, of course, I travel with art. You don't?"'

'Kate Winslet was traveling with her Monets and Picassos. And I'm sure she'd be traveling with that sketch by Leo.'

I could have listened to find out how someone enjoys art with a depth I didn't get. Looking back, there's no way anyone could have told me how self-absorbed I was. I didn't even know what it meant.

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