A different trait of human beings comes out when they are in a space the holds art or history.
They are more leisurely. It’s the only time where them being slow is embraced as the concept of time seizes to exist within a museum wall.
Slowly reading the details, to figure how their different their interpretations were from the artist’s. Tiny humans exhibited across the massive museum, losing way even with maps in hand, only to be found in a whole new light.
Spotlights falling gracefully on their faces. Lines created by the worldly stress, now slowly vanishing as if an artist were gently stroking their face with a brush.
With calmer breath, length of every stride varying. Shifting weight from one leg to another, to view art from different angles whilst transforming self into a modern day “clothed” David by Michelangelo.
A space where the collection may not necessarily make sense or understood, but people willing to walk through it only to be gratified by the experience.
Some essentials that we, as humans forget. That it is alright to not be completely appreciated or that there are varying depths that people go to, to understand true essence of the art. Of you. Of why certain colours mix the way they do on your canvas and why certain strokes run deeper than the others. An exquisite piece of the gallery called earth.
While perceiving art, they themselves become pieces of art, a version different from reality, different from what they are outside, slower, more patient. Something we could do with, even outside those walls.
