Isabella Stewart Gardner

Audrey had another great dilation today-- she had constricted a little, back to approx 9mm from 12 on Friday he said. He took her up to 15mm but did not do any injections. We were out of there so quickly and she was feeling so well that we went to check out a beautiful museum I've been dying to visit, the Isabella Stewart Gardner "Palace" (I need some really fancy curly font for that word. Preferably gilded.) No photography was allowed, so please permit me a few words for this experience. This woman had amassed an unreal art collection in her lifetime and constantly encouraged contemporary art as well, shipping giant architectural elements from Europe as well as setting up her place as a haven for artists to come and work, holding parties and music concerts in celebration of the arts. John Singer Sargent was a close friend of hers and he worked there a lot. In the end, she set up the place exactly how she wanted it and designated that nothing in the palace collection was to be moved or changed after she died, as part of her stipulation for the trust funding. The foundation has built a new adjacent building to further her dream of encouraging contemporary art and provides an artist in residence program in which anyone can apply for a one month stay in their artist apartment. Looking around at all of the art, it was easy for me to think how empty a life that might be, if so much of a person's life's energy was spent in the acquisition of so many things and the near-worship of the works of human hands. But then looking deeper you learn that she started the museum project after her only child died as a two year old, as a way to heal, and was further propelled into obsession with completing it when her husband unexpectedly passed away. What would I do, in a similar situation?  She was a stubborn perfectionist. The focal point of the palace is a glassed in courtyard surrounded by stuccoed Venetian walls, for which she mixed the paint color herself and instructed the painters to finish in a particular way, and when they did not do it right, she had them do it over. She supported new artists she liked by buying contemporary art from them. She also used the art by enjoying these spaces with hosting concerts and parties, and encouraging artists to come any time and work there. Despite all the masterpieces on every corner, the museum encourages children to visit.  It was so moving to take in all of this incredible lavish beauty and unspared expense everywhere, from a mother's perspective, seeing all the things a child would not be allowed to touch, and knowing instinctively from her words and life photos that hint at her powerful soul, that she would have given it all if she could have had her small son in her arms again. It's also ironic and a bit sad to see the rooms that she lovingly prepared with plenty of seating intended for patrons of the museum, but the chairs and couches themselves are now considered artworks and guests are not permitted to use them. The lovely fireplaces and servingware go unused, evidence of parties full of laughter long past. It is a perfect place for ghosts and humanities majors. She said, "Years ago I decided that the greatest need in our Country was Art… We were a very young country and had very few opportunities of seeing beautiful things, works of art… So, I determined to make it my life's work if I could." Needless to say, I found a new friend in this stubborn amazing woman. Hats off to you, Mrs. Gardner.