And the Plot Thickens

            On the morning of May 30^th my trip to London took an unexpected turn. I woke up with sweating with body chills. Every bone in my body was aching and every muscle was sore. I was feeling sick to my stomach and my eyes hurt like they had been pierced with lasers.

            We weren’t meeting in the lobby until 11, so I had planned to spend a relaxing morning taking a walk to the park and reading. Instead, I spent it seeking the cold comfort of the bathroom floor. After a couple hours my symptoms started to fade, and I was feeling better. I really didn’t think much of it, I was just excited to begin my day. I got dressed and headed downstairs.

            We began our walking tour to The National Gallery. As we walked, I noticed my legs weakening, but that morning we had discussed how everyone had tired legs from all the walking we had been doing. I chalked it up to exhaustion. Once we arrived, I was immediately overtaken by the sights in the courtyard. The statues towered above me, and the children giggled as they climbed on the lion figures and splashed in the fountain. On one of the statue podiums there was an art piece of what appeared to be a giant pile of whip cream with a cherry and a drone perched on top. It caught all our attention as we questioned its purpose. Shawn informed us that it was a rotating art exhibit! While I still didn’t really understand the purpose of this one or see it as aesthetically pleasing next to all the other much older statues, I had a greater appreciation for it as I thought about what I would put in its place if given the opportunity.

            When we went inside, I made a beeline to the café as usual. This time, as I sat and ate and enjoyed my mocha, I could feel my symptoms coming back and started to panic a bit. I googled symptoms of ‘study abroad burnout.’ I was sure that I had just pushed my body too hard, walking everywhere and constantly out and about.

            So, as I began to explore the museum, I decided to take it easy, sitting and studying the art where I could. As soon as I entered the exhibit I was overtaken with fascination, and I completely forgot about any limits my body was trying to put in my way.

            I absolutely adored this museum. I must take back what I said in my previous blog about modern art being more colorful, the colors in these old paintings popped. How did these artists create such vivid images like this? What has always fascinated me about period art is the clothing. The way these artists paint fabric to make it look as if you could reach out and touch it and the satin would fold under your fingers. The brilliancy of the colors is truly indescribable with words. The folds and creases in the dresses made by a paintbrush?! The details in the lace and the brightness of the colors, it was all so realistic and strikingly sharp.

            The amount of detail work in some of these paintings was fascinating as well, and I wondered how much time was spent slaving over just one part of these paintings to achieve that level of specificity.

            As I walked around, I noticed a lot of the paintings were of a religious nature, depicting Jesus after his crucifixion for example. I found it a lot easier to connect with the biblical stories this way, regardless of personal belief. Such as The Dead Christ Mourned by Annibale Carracci. The emotion that was captured in these paintings was undeniable. It allowed me to think about other aspects of the story that I’m not typically faced with, and it was impossible not to empathize with the grief that was depicted. It made me think about the artist, and their purpose in creating art like this. What were they feeling and how heartbreakingly beautiful is it that this was the only true way they could find to express it?

            Before we had entered the building, I heard that there was a Van Gogh piece in this museum, and I was beyond excited. Van Gogh is one of my favorite artists and so the moment we stepped foot in the art rooms I had my eye out for his name. As I explored the other galleries a museum employee struck up a conversation with me about where I’m from and my study abroad experience here in London. He was a very sweet man, and at the end of our conversation I said, “I heard there is a Van Gogh in this museum?”

            He put on a knowing smile and told me where to find it. As he sent me on my way, he uttered four magical words: “He’s waiting for you.”

            Indeed, he was. I entered the room and knew immediately I was in the right place when I saw the swarm of people gathered around one painting. Then, I saw it. One of my favorite paintings of all time, Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh. I was overwhelmed with emotion as I stood in front of it. I couldn’t believe I was seeing it in real life! The brushstrokes were so fascinatingly detailed, the colors particularly chosen. I felt like I was meeting Van Gogh himself!

            In the same room as Van Gogh, I got to see a Georges Seurat painting, the same artist who inspired the play Sunday in the Park with George. His style was immediately recognizable. One of the famous Water Lilies paintings by Monet was here as well!

            Because I had saved this painting for last, I went to the gift shop and bought up all the Sunflower related merchandise I could find and headed out.

            First, by Brendan’s recommendation I found the painting entitled “The Beheading of St. Margaret” and took my picture with it.  Right next to this there was a man sitting and recreating the artwork in front of him—his work was gorgeous. I wondered if the artists who created this piece all those years ago knew that one day their work would be hanging in a museum like this and someone generations ahead of them would admire it so much as to draw it themselves. I wonder if any of us can even hope to leave an impact as great as that one, proof that art and ideas can change the world, even if we aren’t around to see it.

            After the museum I was feeling quite awful again. Pressed up against the door of the crowded subway I watched the walls of the underground race by and wished to be zapped from existence. I got back to the hotel and took a much-needed nap. I woke up feeling better, but I could still feel the symptoms lingering.

            We went to go see Lift, which was not at all what I expected it to be. It was a show about a man in a lift, and he creates the stories of the people around him in his head! Just like I had written about in my previous blogs! I thought the set was creative, and the way the story progressed kept the audience on the edge of their seats to be sure not to miss any details. We weren’t at all sure what exactly was happening until the end of the show. The story arc of this man getting through a heartbreak by projecting his feelings and issues into these stranger’s lives was impactful for me. Being inside of his head felt a bit like what it’s like in my head, and it was a musical! Right up my alley!

            The moral of the story was saying how you really feel. Quite ironic as we exited the theatre, I had no choice but to admit that something wasn’t right. As I began to cry, I realized that I truly was sick in a foreign country. But when I signed up for this trip I asked to be thrown in the deep end. I wanted to learn all that I could, and it seemed the next lesson London had in store for me was how to survive on my own; really and truly on my own.

            I tested positive for Covid that night. I’ve been in isolation in a hotel room all by myself ever since. I plan on coming out of quarantine tonight; masked up of course! So, for now my next few blog posts will be reflective of the ‘before covid’ portion of my trip. As I said when I first got my test results, everything happens for a reason I just have to figure out the reason for this one!

            I’m thankful to be feeling better, and that I got to experience such an amazing day even if I was experiencing the beginnings of covid all at the same time.

Signing Off from London,

Margaret