As I walked through the wooden halls of the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, I barely sat to ponder each piece. I ran my eyes in tireless motions across each one, letting the culture slip from my grasp. When someone is walking around an art museum, each art piece may not receive more than a second glance, if they got a glance at all. If art could speak, what would it say? If we had a moment to reflect upon each piece, what would we write? Or would we let the art speak for itself? What meaning would we derive from it?

So, I decided to study a piece for a long time and try to find the purpose behind the art, the meaning and overall message it was trying to say to the audience. So I chose one of my favorite artists, the infamous Pablo Picasso. I looked into his "Blue Period", in particular his picture that is titled "Dama in Eden Court." The Blue Period was a period in which Picasso expressed his sadness after loosing a friend to suicide. The momentarily glimpse I gave the art at the museum suddenly became more than paint on a canvas. The purpose behind the art enhanced its importance to me, and the art started speaking a language that I could understand.

So, instead of mindlessly writing you a summary of the history of the art and what I think it means, I was inspired by Picasso's ingenious way of speaking to our pubescent minds and I decided to artfully reflect upon the work in the form of a poem. Below are the results I had.

We cannot mindlessly skip over things that at first seem meaningless. The purpose behind the art is more important than the end result, because the purpose is what drives you to get to the end. If we all stop to ponder why instead of what, then possibly we could all drive more substance out of the things we slump of as unimportant.

“Dama en Eden Concert”

Staring down a glass bottle of hopes

drinking down the failed dreams

forgetting the detestable endings

that had promising beginnings

perceived as a distraction from the present

a momentary cure from the past

liquid to fill the void

an escape from the pain

that coated, covered, smeared us in blue

The momentary fix from the distractions

was an illusion

pain doesn't leave just disappears

the blue that covered us

was a stain

from the agony that leaked from the heart

until we were all empty beings seeking hope

from bottles of broken glass.