I was in the Metropolitan Museum of Art today, because when you're in NY, it's mandatory that you go there, and as I meandered with two friends who knew more about art than I ever will, I wondered what it said about me that the only thing keeping me conscious in the Chinese art area was the fact that I was standing up.
By the time we found our way to Ringo Starr's gold-plated snare drum in the musical instrument section, I realized that my tastes, even in a prestigious art museum, were pretty plebian. The Tiffany glass and Van Gogh were my favorites, but were it not for my auspicious surroundings, I likely would have been just as enthralled walking through a Thomas Kinkaide store. Like I said - plebian.
Now, I can revel in the beauty of a sonnet or a symphony, but somehow I am missing the gene that oohs and ahs over ancient artifacts. I find myself tolerating almost everything but the impressionists and counting down the hours until we get to my favorite of all places in the museum - the gift shop.
The gift shop makes me happy. There are books and scarves and tote bags and shiny baubles. There was a calendar of a shoe exhibit. How did I miss that section of the museum?
I remember going to see the King Tut exhibit in Chicago a few years back, where there were only one or two artifacts that were actually Tut's. If memory serves me correctly, I came away gleaning only that people were really short back then. I also wondered why they were selling Christmas ornaments of Tutankhamun in the gift shop when he lived in the age of the Pharaohs, well before Christ ever walked the earth. Was anyone else wondering that?
I'm thinking of looking for a book like Art for Dummies or something along those lines. Maybe there will be some tidbit that will unlock that world for me. Until then, here's to spending time with wonderful people. That's a much bigger draw for me than any painting.
Thanks for stopping by. Please tell your friends.
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