\\THE PHILBROOK SERIES, PART ONE\\
Even if I hadn’t been paying rapt attention – I could have immediately told you when the car crossed the line onto the property of Villa Philbrook. Crackling and buzzing, the whole air of the property seemed to be alive and it was filling my head like static from a radio. Without realizing it, the car had been parked and we were making our way to the entrance. Stopping to take a picture of the front of the former Phillips home I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched; ridiculous considering all of the security cameras and other museum guests? Yes, quite.
If my mom hadn’t insisted we hurry inside for the tour I could have stayed there looking and looking, at both the house and the picture, trying to find the illusive eyes I knew were watching me. As soon as I stepped through the doors of the museum addition, where the cashier, gift shop, and restaurant were located, I could no longer feel the eyes burning a hole into the back of my head. I numbly showed my college ID for the featured discount and grabbed a floor plan and guide for the tour before falling in line behind my mother and sister.
The tour and artwork were fantastic, as expected, but as soon as we stepped back into the original house – the sensation of being watched and followed was back and stronger than before. This time I knew it wasn’t the security cameras, having looked around me a few times during a particularly strong moment, I knew it had to be something left behind. And I was pretty sure that it was something that wasn’t supposed to be there.
Once the tour was over, we spent some time in the lavish and relaxing garden. In between taking goofy photos and smelling the sweet flowers, I overheard a particularly interesting conversation near the offices for the museum staff. Apparently they were having security system problems and it would be out for 48 hours-along with any cameras on the grounds. But, they argued, surely the museum would be protected by a few well placed security guards for the time being? My heart skipped a beat at realizing the house would be penetrable for 48 hours. I could get in…I could find who was watching me and make contact…this had to be a sign.
It was a normal family evening once we had returned home, but while waiting for dinner I discovered something amazing. Going over each photo of the exterior of the home, while zooming in and checking every inch, I had found my watcher. There, just barely visible in the window to the far right and above the front door, was a woman watching me. Holy…crap. It was real and not just in my imagination.
I continued to go through the remaining exterior photos and sure enough, she was in almost every one of them. Suddenly I realized, she was the reason the alarm wasn’t working. She wants to meet me and she doesn’t want to wait…or take no for an answer.
\\For more information, please visit The Philbrook Museum of Art\\