Rooms with a Hue

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The incessant calls from my alarm clock woke me from absurd dream about wandering aimlessly in the scorching heat of a barren desert while melting clocks dripped numbers from the sky. I was equally as happy to be awake as annoyed that it was so early. Today I begin my new job as a museum guide; I’ve been looking forward to this new job venture for weeks. I stumbled out of bed and sleepily made my way to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. The aroma reinvigorated and motivated me to get moving. I sipped on that first cup lazily and glanced at the time. 

“AH! I’m gonna be so late!”

I chugged another cup and poured the rest into a travel mug before setting off. The sidewalk was bustling with pedestrians on their way to work. Birds chirped excitedly, greeting (or lambasting?) the people parading by. The sun was low in the east, reflecting off doors and windows, producing that morning golden hour glow.

As I approached the museum, the curator met me with a huge grin at the back entrance to the building. 

“…what?” I asked hesitantly, a little freaked out by the height that the corners of her mouth had reached.

“Did you get any coffee in your mouth this morning?”

I glanced down to find a lovely shade of burnt umber coated my new, formerly alabaster button-up blouse. This is going to be a great day.

I made a beeline to the restroom and rinsed my top as best I could before slipping on and buttoning up my museum uniform vest over top. 

That’ll have to do.

I started my day training with the curator to figure out the POS system and pricing, filed some documents away in the archive, and wiped down the chairs and countertops. As slow as the morning was, I began to think we didn’t exist; but the day really picked up a little after noon when two bus loads full of curious children filed into the museum lobby. Giggles and whispers filled the room as I handed out brochures to the chaperones and stickers to the wily groups of adolescents. 

A while later another couple bus loads of kids were dropped off and the process began all over again. Afternoons must be the prime time for student field trips to the local art museum. 

As the day drew to a close, I offered to stay late and get some things ready for a big philanthropy event taking place the following day. The sun lowered in the sky, radiating that golden hour glow again, this time from the west. Streetlights flicked on one by one, illuminating all of the pedestrians now making their journey back home. The most popular attire made a switch from daytime casual to nighttime chic as patrons filed in and out of the local taverns and taprooms lining the street. 

“Well, I think that’ll do. Thanks so much for all your help!” The curator excused us for the evening as she made her exit to join the company at the bar next door. I packed up my things and started toward the back of the museum when a hush fell over me. The lights dimmed and some eerily soft music began to play in the distance. I slunk back down the long corridor to the lobby, and saw a magical light display emanating from the front exhibition room. 

Oh, they must have a show for people walking by at night.

Blue lights swirled through the air and reflected off the shiny disco ball streamers we just sprinkled all over the lobby. As I inched closer and closer, the lovely blue shade changed to a red and yellow orangey hue. Panic set in immediately as I thought the building had caught on fire. I frantically turned the corner and saw something no one would ever believe. The paintings in the Van Gogh exhibit seemed to be moving. Flowing and rippling along to the soft music humming from somewhere above us. The ‘Starry Night’ danced and twisted within its frame, the lights within the tiny village buildings turning on and off. I glanced over to ‘Sunflowers’ and small yellow petals flaked off the canvas and floated on a light breeze through the room. The sweet aroma emanating from ‘Cafe Terrace at Night’ filled my nose with baked goods, coffee, and wine as the small patrons spoke amongst themselves. I stared at the tiny scene in dumbfounded amazement. 

Can they see me?

I waved to the mini waiter. His gaze met mine as he politely waved back.

Astounding.

In the next room, I could hear splashing as a warm, summer breeze greeted me from around the corner. I entered the David Hockney exhibit through the glaze of a brilliant blue wash. A diver lazily swam through his confines, emerging from the pool’s edge of one painting and taking his place on the short diving board of his most popular ‘The Splash’. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. I wanted to be in that painting in that moment, taking in the summer heat and releasing it into those chlorinated waters.

When I lifted my eyelids once again, flecks of gold encompassed me. They swirled in the hallway, beckoning me to the Symbolism and Expressionism exhibit. Gustav Klimt’s ‘The Kiss’ greeted me with fanciful golden hues, and a sense of love and adoration enveloped me. As I twirled around in the glow of romance, a blood-curdling scream abruptly pierced the ambiance. ‘The Scream’ seemed to wave violently in an exaggerated pulse, and my head pounded like a low steady bass drum. I was inundated with the sound of fluttering wings as ‘Birds of Prey’ came to life, tearing through the open display space, not caring about the path they set out on, just dive bombing as fast and as hard as they could muster.

I fought for my life running out of that room, ducking and swatting blindly at the air around me. A darkness settled in around me once again, and a ticking, no louder than a whisper, guided me to the Surrealism exhibit. I was instantly enamored by ‘Persistence of Memory’. It had me locked in a daze as I stared blankly at the melting clocks dripping down the painting, spilling over the frame leaving an oily trail on the wall under where the painting sat. The hypnosis took hold of my brain as my eyes got heavy. tick tick tick. drip drip drip.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The incessant calls from my alarm clock woke me from absurd dream about wandering aimlessly in the scorching heat of a barren desert while melting clocks dripped numbers from the sky.

Wait…