While attending the Lenox School for Girls in Manhattan, I was exposed to much of what New York had to offer. Though none of my schoolmates had been further than a summer home in upstate New York, and some had never been off the island, there were things to see within those 33.77 square miles that moved me way beyond mid-sixties Seattle. What impressed me most was the architecture, history, and art. Most of all the art. In 6th grade, I studied art history both in school and in the museums.
That would not have happened in Seattle. Although established in 1933, the Seattle Art Museum was not on my radar until the 1980s. I’m not sure we ever went to the old building when I was young. If we did, it left no lasting memories. The Metropolitan Museum of Art and The Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) are a different story. They are indelibly etched in my memory. Especially Vincent Van Gogh. For decades, my favorite painting was his The Starry Night and I still love it. On my last trip to NYC, I think in the 90s (?), I stood looking at it for about 30 minutes. Today, I cannot say I have a favorite painting. I have much original art in my home that I adore, I have an ego and do like my own work, and I’ve now seen art of all types including great masters in Europe. I now count The Louvre as one of my favorite places in the world. ALL OF IT! But this one piece has a place in my heart, and a story to go with it.
In 1966, I was just 12 years old and exploring the big city with small city eyes. Our assignment, that April, was to write a story based on one of the paintings from a recent visit to MOMA. Of course, mine had to be about the painting that had captured my heart. I have two copies of it, handwritten on lined three-ring binder paper. I present, here, the one that includes the corrections after submitting for class. It still resonates with me today, but a warning – this is not a happy, little girl story. I can see that I have always been connected to nature and aware of the vagaries of environment.
The Mean Northwind and the Little Animal
By Cathy Champion, April 5, 1966
Yesterday was a beautiful day. The trees and flowers were in bloom. But today it is not. No, today is a solemn and listless day. The old Northwind has come. He has come to torture the humble little animals of the woods and put them and the flowers to sleep.
The animals will try to find shelter under the fallen leaves, but their work in in vain. As soon as they are snuggled and warm, woosh, the Northwind blows. His blowing breaks all tranquility and fiercely ruins the Animal’s home. The Animal trudges on, with great unsteadiness against his adversary. The adversary is stronger, and soon the Little Animal is overcome. He is knocked against a tree and lies there, hungry and cold, but too sore and weary to travel on. He lies on his bed of leaves, below the tree, and slowly dies. He is wrapped in a blanket of cold cruelness, to be overcome completely by the mean Northwind.
Today is almost over. The wind has gone, the trees and flowers should bloom again tomorrow. What about the Little Animal? He will go to heaven where he will be happy, and never be seen again.
PS The teacher removed some of my more flowery adjectives, not included in this version, and proclaimed “It is imaginative!” Do you see that story in the painting?
