May 19, 2012

In the empty museum...

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... I guess I was the only one with no place better to be.

17 comments:

Petunia said...

Everyone else was either graduating or being shot at outside a bar on University Avenue.

rhhardin said...

No ptyx.

edutcher said...

Not even Meade?

PS The idea of an empty museum is rather sad, although I'm sure you had as beautiful a day there as we've had in NE OH, nonetheless, the chance to roam around unimpeded is nice, too.

Methadras said...

Love those floors.

ricpic said...

Buried Alive

Walking around trying to be inspired
In a place purposely dispiriting;
This is the fate of the modern woman
Convinced bureaucracy offers fresh air.

AllieOop said...

Why be buried in the museum, when one can worship in nature's cathedral?

Glorious Wisconsin spring day!

kcom said...

Like almost all museums, it looks antiseptic to me. There's got to be a better way.

Penny said...

"Empty museum" is an oxymoron.

Peter Hoh said...

Everyone was watching hawk cam.

Looks like baby bunny is being served for dinner.

Ann Althouse said...

It was hot in Madison today. But I did go walking. I just stopped in at places along the way to get cool and to grade a couple exams, an effective technique.

Meade went mountain biking, which I don't do. That was after I pooped out on going biking, because of the heat.

I got some good grading done, listened to podcasts, and shopped a bit for clothes. Meade finished his ride and answered my call to come pick me up by the Chazen Museum, after which we had a perfectly delightful afternoon.

rhhardin said...

It's never too hot for biking. It's all breeze.

Penny said...

Yeah? Tell that to the kids on their tricycles.

Palladian said...

You weren't alone in the Museum, Althouse...

...remember?

Carnifex said...

I love museums. The ones with old stuff in them, not so much art ones. Unless it's old art. I guess 'cause I'm so much like it...old fart.

I love old buildings. They have a character to them that concrete and glass cannot reproduce. Sure, it's nice to live in a petri dish, all clean, and antiseptic, but tha's not life. Life is dirty, life smells, has grit, and puke stains from your kids, or cats, or where the dog licked up what the cat and kid puked.

Nothing evokes dreams of western movies and good guys and bad fuys like walking on a wooden floor, hearing the snapping, and cracking, the popping of the joists and joints.

The dust floating up to your nose to make you start to sneeze, but then you don't...man! I hate that! And then the dust motes waft into a beam of sun light, gritty from a grimy window, swirling around like small galaxies, and nebulae.

How much better it is, when the old building is filled with old stuff that's new to you. You discover each item, with child like wonder, as your parents, and grandparents did. Eye's touching the dried dessicated remains of dreams and lives and loves of people form different times and places.

Weird animals brought to live from some grade b horror movie, and around the corner, might be "Torg" from Plan 9 from Outer space. Or is it the African room?

Alan said...

I think the sculpture at the left of the top photo is actually a Doctor Who alien. Did you happen to notice a blue police box at the museum?

mishu said...

Maybe if you wore shorts, you wouldn't have been so hot outside.

Ann Althouse said...

Palladian said..."You weren't alone in the Museum, Althouse... ...remember?"

Ha ha. That was great!