Why the MFA? (Prof K.-3 entries)

Why was the gift of the trip to the MFA so important to me? It's a long story, but some of my earliest memories, quite literally, are of the MFA Boston. As a very young child I would spend weekends with my grandfather who lived down the street from the MFA, with my hands firmly in my pockets, following him through the museum.We never walked through the whole museum, just to the rooms with the paintings that he wanted to see. It seemed to me that we spent days at a time sitting looking at paintings. I know it was just hours. Every once in a while my grandfather would exhale or let out a,”Hmmmm”, get up, and walk over to a painting, adjust his glasses, and lean in to get abetter look, zooming in as close as the docents would allow. I never minded these trips, and still don’t. In high school, if the headmaster would call my father to say that I had skipped school that day, my dad knew exactly where I had been. When he would pick me up that evening at the bus station he would hold out his hand, palm up. I instantly knew he knew, and would place the small, brightly colored lapel pin that they gave you when you paid your entry fee in his open palm. Nothing was ever said. (When I opened my first gallery, my father handed me a cherry wood box. When I looked inside, it was full of those lapel pins.) The house that I grew up in, as well as my grandparents house on Marlborough Street, have since been sold. So going to the MFA fills in for them. It's the place that I can go to and remember my childhood, my adolescence, and even important times in my adult life. It is home.

For My Birthday... (Prof K.- two entries)

     Well, here it comes, my least favorite day. I've seriously, always just hated it. I just want someone to buy me the right cake! Stop and Shop just won't cut it. For my birthday, I want a real cake, rich decadent and yummy. Or, a small gift that lets me know that someone out there really knows me, not as a test or anything, just something that says,"here, this is for you", like, as in ,"You", meaning me.        Right now, I am broke. I can't even buy food. I've been eating rice and canned beans for over a week now. I've stocked up on them just for times like this. There is money coming any day now, so I don't want or need sympathy. I don't want someone to buy me dinner or provide for me, or feel bad for me. This is my bed, I'll lie in it. I'm the one who decided to go back to school and try to surf student loans to live. I have the basic necessities. It's just that sometimes I need to feel human.
    I just opened an email from some friends. For my birthday, they are going to take me to the MFA in Boston. This is the gift that I've been waiting for. The MFA is my cathedral, Art is my religion. Some days, it's just nice to know that someone knows you that well.