Escape through Van Gogh's "Starry Night"

John Keats is my all-time favorite poet. Being high on laudenum one night, he wrote "Ode to a Nightingale." And tonight, as I was staring at my Mr. Lee original painting of Van Gogh's "Starry Night" I couldn't help but be reminded of Keats in his high talking to a bird about life issues. Don't have to be high on an opiate to escape for a few minutes.

Stepping through Van Gogh's painting and around his cathedral, I make my way down the main street. The bright sky illuminates enough of the way that I don't need a lantern. And a lantern is what would be used because the era would be pre-19th century. I'm wearing a bone crushing corset and a heavy, wool cloak. Horses whinny from the street. The crisp air bites my nose but fills my lungs. It's quiet in a non-industrial age way. Simple. Traditional. Perfect.

This is a place that is easy to get lost in. Survival is the focus of those who live here. Not snagging the latest iPod or biggest house or computer. Friends and family are important. Community. Lanterns shine through the windows of the building in the middle of the street. Laughing strings of a fiddle can be heard. Peeking my head in, the entire town is dancing and clapping.

The wind picks up. It's louder and louder. Sounds of televisions, radios, phones blare in my head. I'm being sucked backward by the wind. It feels like I'm trying to swim through glue. Like when you wake up from being under anaesthesia. The sounds and the wind are pulling me faster and faster until I fall backward on the couch.

Back to reality.
Short trip.
Everyone needs that escape every now and again.