Transfixed, I stand before a work of art covering most of a wall. I know very little about art—but I know what moves me. I remember visiting the New Orleans Museum of Art on the heels of a magical afternoon spent in the Besthoff Sculpture Garden, a treasure in the city park, (not to be missed). It was a balmy 80+ degree day, and the museum was the dessert.
There I was moved in a way that I had never been, despite trips to many museums. My ticket? Claude Monet’s Snow Effect Giverny-1893.
In an instant, chill blanketed the air, winter enfolded me. The sultry NOLA outside fell away. I stood frozen. I needed to go no further. I had traveled to Giverny. Now I understood what my husband, after all these years, felt when he, an art aficionado and knowledgeable—but NOT SNOOTY—tried to convey this experience. That was several years ago, and while we’ve viewed much art since then…not the same. (I lie—Mark Rothko in Houston, magic carpet, too.)
Now I’m standing in front of this canvas, and I swear, on this balmy San José Art Walk evening in the Patricia Mendoza gallery, I am in the sea, deep in the sea. I cannot move, the weight of water holds me captive. When I surface, catch my breath, I put on my glasses to read the tiny card accompanying the canvas. “El Mar Profundo” by Eduardo Mejorado. “The Deep Sea.”
The price is $26,000 USD, a serious price for a serious piece of art, and worth every penny. What a trip—beauty.
Jump off; Find Wings 
I love art museums. I have not taken myself there in so long I cannot remember the last time. Thank you for sharing this experience. I was able to take a little trip in my mind because of your post.
Thanks for reading! I always feel like I’m an “imposter,” to use @hardly an artist’s apt description, when I visit museums.
Art, like books, has the ability to move us and transport up. Being moved by a piece of art is difficult to explain to someone who has never had the experience.