A summer day unfolds filled with nostalgia and connections among friends, framed by a charity gym event. The narrator recalls enjoying drinks after working out, reflecting on changes in life as they walked home. Spotting Henri Rousseau prints unexpectedly on the sidewalk captures their attention, prompting thoughts about life's fleeting experiences. The vibrant images stir deeper emotions tied to art and personal history, underlining how these small encounters enrich daily existence and the value of cherished friendships.
The ache in my arms hadn't set in yet, though that maybe had more to do with the drinks we'd all had afterwards, crowded onto wooden benches in the sunshine.
These sorts of sidewalk chat were the norm: rarer, more precious.
I approached slowly, as surprised as the tiger that I'd later learn lends one of these paintings its name.
Rousseau's looping, almost childish signature is one of the few artists' signatures that I find legible even at a distance.
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