A Pence for Your Thoughts | Teen Ink

A Pence for Your Thoughts

February 7, 2016
By Anonymous

On the way to the Louvre from the French underground station, we took our time walking around and looking at the beautiful city. Me, my sister, my grandma, my aunt, my uncle, and my two cousins strolled down the romantic streets of Paris until we reached the Louvre Palace. Upon entering the courtyard, our eyes were drawn immediately towards the grand glass pyramid that served as a skylight to the art museum below. The building itself was a masterpiece that protected smaller ones inside of it.
 

As soon as we entered the building and paid ten euros for each visitor, my aunt grabbed a map and looked for the hall where the Mona Lisa hung. The walls were covered with art from top to bottom, and the floor was roped off to guard sculptures. In minutes, we reach the room where it was located, but so did about half of the people in the building. I was so excited to see Leonardo Da Vinci’s most famous work and expected to see this large portrait with vibrant color. If the painting looked mesmerizing in photos, then it would look even better in real life. I was disappointed to see a tiny, dark, and fading painting behind a glass box. There was a mob around the picture with people holding up their cameras and phones while acting like madmen just to get a shot of the portrait. To my surprise, the museum also installed a rail about a meter from the wall that the Mona Lisa was hanged on to keep people from getting too close. In the same room, there hung pictures six times bigger than the one being swarmed around, but none of them got the same attention at the Mona Lisa did. 


After roaming the museum and looking at other renowned works of art, we decided to head back to the hotel. Exiting the courtyard, we saw a crowd surrounding an area of the sidewalk just mere feet from the exit on the way to the underground station. Out of curiosity, we walked over there and peered down onto the pavement and saw an enormous, beautiful mural-like chalk drawing. It contained realistic portraits of people from multiple ethnicities drawn with incredible detail and astounding colors blended effortlessly. There was also a banner at the bottom of the mural with a message in both French and English. It said, “Please look, but don’t touch. Take pictures and spread my hard work like those in the Louvre.” Next to the end of the English translation was the artist’s box that contained a few coins and euros from the onlookers. Like many others, I took out my wallet and threw in all the loose change I had after taking a few pictures.


As I stood there while the artist was putting his finishing touches on an African American lady, I couldn’t stop thinking about the mural being washed away in the rain. It was painful to think that such a beautiful work of art would disappear in a few days after all the long, hard hours this artist put into it. How people could only donate a few pence to this street artist here with incredible talent, when only a few hours ago they paid ten euros to go see famous works of art by artists who were long gone. Granted, it was a rare experience to see these famous works, but many of these street artists’ art went on being unnoticed compared to the ones just several feet beneath them. Sure, their work was appreciated, but it wasn’t valued. To think that this amazing chalk drawing would soon be lost to the world except for the few pictures that the admirers had taken, was heartbreaking. This beautiful mural deserved a spot in the Louvre, to be preserved, and to be admired for decades just as much as the Mona Lisa did.


The author's comments:

This essay reflects back on my experience of when I thought about how we valued art and what art we do value.


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