norman rockwell

today i went to barnes & noble to work on a bunch of work stuff. i was there for hours. at one point a nice older gentleman sat down in the chair next to mine to work on his crossword puzzle. he asked me to please wake him up when i left because he needed a good nap. [true story] unfortunately for him he didn't sleep much, but did complete his crossword puzzle, and went on his way. he did tell me as he left that he no longer needed me to awaken him from his nap. [just in case i was confused...]

anyway, when i completed my necessary work i ended up walking around the store perusing the different sections, hoping to get a few more book ideas for Christmas. on my walk i came across this:


this is the revised and updated version of norman rockwell's Christmas book, and as i peeked through it many emotions swelled within me, and took me back quite a few years. 

norman rockwell was a part of my childhood. [not him, him, but his work...] we had many norman rockwell plates, and the old version of the Christmas book. i remember thinking many times, that i would love to live inside a norman rockwell painting. 

i know that his paintings are romanticized, but they catch so many good and funny moments of life. and they are absolutely idyllic. 

for an idealist like me, i wanted nothing more than to be one of his muses for a while - especially if it meant that life would switch gears for a bit, and i could live inside all of the good stuff from the 40s and 50s.

[here are a few of my favorite rockwell paintings:]

even as i flipped through the book today i had a rockwell-esque picture in my head of years from now; my dad sitting in a huge comfy chair surrounded by all of his grandchildren, reading stories to them out of norman rockwell's Christmas book.

 and it brought a 
tear to my eye.


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