I Made a Mistake…
Imagine That

I write a great deal about Donald the Dumb, our fake president…at least for a while, he is our fake president. However, his clock is ticking before his personal presidential Armageddon occurs. His four horsemen from his Apocalypse are riding faster and faster toward him. Albrecht Dürer did this woodcarving and must have had some divine premonition regarding Trump over a half millennium ago. Dürer entitled his prediction in 1498, The Four Horsemen, from The Apocalypse.

The Four Horsemen

I agree with Dürer’s prophecy. My only question is which of the four horsemen catches up with Donald the Dumb before the others. The first horseman is Robert Mueller, the second horseman is the US Attorney for the Southern District of New York, the third horseman is the US Attorney for District of Columbia, and the fourth horseman is US Attorney for the Eastern District of Virginia. There is, among those in the know, a debate about which of these horsemen is the most damning and/or which will put the handcuffs on Donald the Dumb first. I’m betting on the first horseman, and the due date will be before July 4th, our Independence Day from Donald the Dumb.

As for the real reason for this important essay is that Donald the Dumb and I share in one idiosyncrasy; we don’t like to be wrong. However, I admit it when I realize my mistakes. He lies, covers up, and threatens.

Therefore, this essay is about one of my many mistakes. Anyone, who knows anything about me, knows that I love the arts. My love for the arts goes back to the days in the early 60s, that is 1960s and not 1860s, while I was at Muskingum College. Everyone had to take The Arts, which was a 10-hour class during a student’s junior or senior year. I opted for my junior year. That required class caused fear and trembling similar to seeing The Four Horsemen, from The Apocalypse pursuing you. At the end of my junior year, Louie Palmer, my professor asked me to be his teaching assistant in my senior year. I wrote the midterm and final in both semesters and also graded them. I also taught a handful of subsections each week. What a rewarding experience.

In the past two decades, I have taught the arts many times. This is my PowerPoint. I love the arts, which brings me to the real reason for this essay. One day, as I sat in front of my computer, which I do 24/7 for 10-15 hours every day, I got a phone call, which was from a former colleague of mine. She and I hadn’t seen nor heard from each other for nearly four decades. What a sheer delight. For an hour, we chatted. I was rattled. We attempted to catch up with times past. We ended our dialogue promising to stay in touch.

Since I promised this person to stay in touch, I called her again a couple days ago. This time, the call was over an hour and a half. Somewhere in the midst of two people trying to make up for lost time, my former colleague said something about the arts. Well, that comment would endear me to a total stranger. My former colleague asked about my favorite painting. Apparently, she had read one of more than two dozen of my essays on William Turner’s The Fighting Téméraire. This is the painting in my home.

After she politely endured my babbling about the ship, etc., she mentioned her favorite painting, Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth. I was caught off guard, but she added, “You know the one of a woman in a field?” To which, I replied, “Are you talking about the one with all the poppies?” I thought that she was referencing Monet’s painting and merely had mistaken the artist’s name.

Monet’s Women in a Red Poppy Field

Nope. I was the one that made the mistake. Donald the Dumb would have lied, but I admitted my blunder. This was the one about which she has in her living room. Christina's World, which Andrew Wyeth painted in 1948.

Christina’s world is a field

Finally, I was on the same page as my friend and former colleague. I had seen that painting many times before but didn’t recall the name of the painting, although I knew Wyeth had painted it. After a couple minutes, we wandered back to catching up with our lives. I promised again that we would stay in contact and said goodbye.

I returned to dealing with Donald the Dumb and the time he wasted during the shutdown. It affected me and my dream of raising a half million dollars for 1250 laptops. I redid the introduction to articles’ index page and worked on some other writing projects. Then came the hauntings. I didn’t know anything about the reason for the painting of Christina's World, but I would find out before my friend and I would chat again.

Christina’s full name was Anna Christina Olson. She was born on May 3, 1893 and died on January 27, 1968. He and Christina were friends. As it turned out, Wyeth had watched her crawling in the field from a window in the house in the painting.

Perhaps from this window…

The sad part of the historical background was that Christina was crawling in the field, because she couldn’t walk. She suffered from Charcot–Marie–Tooth disease, which has to do with nerve damage. Wyeth’s painting was a tribute to a women that, in spite of her debilitating disease, fought against all odds. She wanted to get to the house on the hill and crawled to it.

Christina was a person that had guts. She is an example to all of us to live our lives as best we can. She had danced with death but continued to dance. Here’s to you, and all the dancers in life. My list of dancers with death has grown larger thanks to my former colleague’s phone call.