A Juxtaposed Contrast

 One time, a pretty young girl, Rose, and her grandmother, Ema, went to an art museum.  It was nice – not too many people were there at 8:30 AM on a Saturday morning.  There was a curator and a college student, nearby.  The student was working towards a post-graduate degree in graphic design, took some time during the morning to go check out the local art museum.  “What, if you do not mind my asking, is your opinion on these works?” asked the curator.  He and the art student, Mathew, had already spoken together once or twice, before.

Rose and Ema were standing near enough to hear their conversation.  Rose was admiring a huge orange flower while trying not to be afraid of a scary cow skull.  “Well,” said Mathew,

“I have always enjoyed O’keeffe’s artwork.  It, like many things to me, has become too overly cliché to really talk too much about.  I am happy to see these works in person, do not get me wrong.  It is the whole life to death comparison idea, though.  This whole idea that we can compare good to bad, beauty to disgust, or life to death; put those things into a painting; and expect others to enjoy the picture or sing our praises is just not very impressive to me.  What makes her stand out are these vivid colors that radiate from her canvases; death can be a cool form of inspiration.  I like and appreciate what she knew how to do for what was able to be done, technique wise, during her time; her juxtaposition of life and death was a sort of cop-out, in my opinion.”

“I think I agree,” said the curator, “She could have conveyed a deeper message – I still like to see her paintings, too.  They far-surpass many, in my opinion.  At least she had a message.”  The admirers continued to look upon the various paintings in the large room, its polished marble floors were white with wavy grey lines.  “Grandma, what is a ‘juxtaposition’?” asked Rose, thinking it may be a tough question.  “That is simply a comparison of two ideas, pictures, or things that are usually perceived to be opposites,” said Ema, “Which one is your favorite?”  “Well,” said Rose, “I like the big purple orchid with the pink stripes, because I think it is pretty, however I also like the one there by it of bones.  I like the second one, because I know.  One day, we are all going to die.“

“She speaks rather well,” said Mathew.  “Most prodigies can,” said Ema.  Rose looked over to Mathew and smiled; she was proud to have heard the complement.  Rose and Ema held hands and walked through the rest of the exhibit.  All four people thought about comparing things for the rest of the amicable day.

♦