"Is this a sculpture?" asked a timid man, eyeing the bench I was about to sit on.
"No," I laughed a soft laugh, suitable for a museum. This satisfied him and so he sat and together we took in 'Palm Sunday'.
I'd been in the Tate Modern for an hour and already seen so very many incredible things. The outside of the building did not in any way prepare one for all the wonder inside. It was a brick fortress, looming on the edge of the Thames, completely unlike the stunning old architecture of Shakespeare's Globe, which I'd passed on my walk from the London Bridge underground.
But inside this immense brick building I was experiencing much the same rush of delight and joy I would probably find to behold a play performed upon that legendary stage. There are all these things we can say, "One day I will..." about and the list might be too long to actually take the time to write out. It's what we want to do before we die. 100 books we should read, 100 people we should meet, 100 places we should go, 100 paintings we should see...
Every day that passes I'm finding myself checking off these things in my head. Before noticing the relatively unnoticeable sign that stated 'No photography', I captured some Picasso and Monet. I sat and gazed in wonder at 'Adam' and 'Eve' in all their red glory. I couldn't help but giggle to walk under Robert Therrien's giant table and chairs.
I sat in the darkened screening rooms that showed reels of performance artists works and felt the discomfort, confusion or wonder of those that passed through. I watched the faces of posh retiree's as they attempted to figure out why 'No Ghost, Just a Shell' (Ann Lee collaboration) was considered 'art'. I loved the children, there in school groups, straining their necks to see into the rooms that stated they contained images of a graphic nature.
And it was amazing. It was inspiring. It was completely mind-blowing.
This weekend I'm off to Paris, where I'll be staying in a hotel by Notre Dame and the Louvre is waiting for me, even if it doesn't know it yet.
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