Munch and Discounted Trainers
Sir/Madam,
I am writing with great urgency and a fair degree of confusion to express my thoughts on two matters of seismic importance: the rediscovery of a lost Munch painting and my recent purchase of a heavily discounted pair of running shoes. While, on the surface, these events may appear unrelated, I believe the threads connecting them are as intricate as a lace in an ill-tempered trainer.
Firstly, the news of a missing Edvard Munch masterpiece being rediscovered is, of course, thrilling. “The Scream,” they say, is his most famous work, but I’ve always felt his lesser-known pieces, like “Man Contemplates Biscuit Tin,” deserve more attention. (Admittedly, I may have misremembered the title.) But what struck me most is how the painting, hidden for decades, was likely gathering dust in a corner while the rest of the world carried on screaming in its absence.
This brings me, naturally, to my running shoes. Spotted on sale in a department store, their vivid orange hue immediately reminded me of a Munch sunset — though possibly with more reflective piping. As I laced them up for the first time, I couldn’t help but feel the stirrings of art in motion. Could these shoes, like the rediscovered painting, have been waiting for the right moment to emerge? Were they, too, a forgotten masterpiece, hidden among the clearance rack of life?
My neighbours, overhearing me wax lyrical about Munch while stretching in my driveway, suggested I had “missed the point entirely.” But I argue, how could I not think of art while wearing footwear that transforms my plodding jog into a philosophical odyssey? And isn’t there something deeply Munchian about the way I wheeze up a hill, clutching my chest as if caught mid-Scream?
In conclusion, I urge readers to consider that perhaps everything — art, running shoes, misplaced treasures — is just waiting for its rediscovery. For as Munch himself might have said (though almost certainly didn’t): “Life is a canvas, and sometimes it’s painted orange with reflective soles.”
Yours in aesthetic bewilderment,
Ottilie Ponderfoot
(Recently rediscovered by my local running club, much to their regret)