Norman Rockwell

As a kid, I remember seeing Norman Rockwell photos in my home. I don't recall if it was a calendar my Mother had, a magazine, a book or what have you, I just clearly remember being familiar with his work.

I hadn't thought about him in years until the summer of 2008. Aaron's family had this new tradition (it was only incepted a few years before I came into the picture) of going to the Tanglewood Music Festival in the Berkshires of Massachusetts. The summer of 2008 was the first year I went and was it ever amazing. We were there for a few days so we had plenty of time to do things aside from drinking wine and eating like kings attending the music festival.

Last year, I'm not sure whose idea it was, someone mentioned going to the Norman Rockwell Museum. Immediately, I was game. I love Norman Rockwell. We spent hours in the museum and also located on this property was his workshop where he actually did most of his work.

Since going last year I have rekindled my love for Rockwell.

Many of you who know me know that I am a clothes whore and a book whore. Not only do I have a jam-packed closet I also have hundreds and hundreds of neatly organized  books. Recently, one of my book clubs advertised a book called In Search of Norman Rockwell's America by Kevin Rivoli. This book is a tribute to Rockwell. In later years critics criticized that many of Rockwell's paintings were fabricated and didn't depcit an America that actually existed and, instead, was mere propaganda to Americanize (in the small town, apple pie way) society into thinking that ice-cream shops and penny candy times actually existed.

In this book Kevin Rivoli (a genius, in my opinion) toured America's towns in search of what Rockwell once painted. Kevin took spontaneuous photographs of people in completely unrehearsed/natural situations and then paired them up with similar Rockwell paintings. The results are not only breathtaking, but also comforting to know that such things do actually exist in a country whose reputation is attacked on a daily basis.

Now, I don't pretend that there isn't crap, sadness, poverty, crime, racism and hate everywhere... and the great US of A is not exempt. But, what Kevin Rivoli strives to prove is one of the things Rockwell knew all along. America is beautiful if you look for it.

I am just so glad I bought this book and had the opportunity to visit the Rockwell museum.