"The perfect museum," I told a traveling companion eight years ago,” would contain only a single painting."
I paused, waiting for my wisdom and deep insight (that as a 20-year old American in Europe I knew I possessed) to awe my friend. She said nothing.
"Uh, you see," I continued, "that way people wouldn’t just look at the art, they would actually see it."
My friend paused thoughtfully then gave me a look that let me know that, as an art critic, she thought I was pretty stupid. Since she was blonde, from California, and seemed so much wiser than me, I completely agreed with her and forgot about my theory.
* * *
Eight years later, I find myself both at the end of my 20´s and in Paris for the first time, and I remember my old theory. I am so completely overwhelmed by the city -- by its beauty, history, and grandeur -- that I feel stressed and depressed that I will ever be able to absorb it. The museums have so many amazing, moving, and (perhaps most importantly for my American sensibilities) famous pieces of art, that I find myself again looking and not seeing.
I feel that I am doing some sort of crazy shopping spree, checking items off my list (a quart of Picasso, a 1/2 dozen of Monet), but not at all ingesting them. I want to rush though the city and see everything that a tourist should see in Paris so that I can relax and just enjoy the city. I, of course, fail miserably at this dream.
Jen and I buy a multi-museum pass (so worth it) and in one day we see:
-5 to 6 million dead Parisians at the Catacombs
-A dozen or so gargoyles from the top of the towers at Notre Dame
-A thousand impressionist water lilies at the Museum D´Orsez
-A lot of art, the Mona Lisa, a lot of tourists, the Venus de Milo at the Louvre
-A few more famous dead people (such as Victor Hugo) at the Pantheon
-A ton of challenging works of art at our favorite, the Pompidou
-A lot of steel at Eiffel Tower
At night, lying in my top bunk at the hostel, I fantasize about my old theory - a city with one street that goes around the one statue outside the only museum whose one room has one painting. Despite the fact my feet are literally aching, I realize that my old friend was right, this is a dumb theory. If such a town existed, the one line would be too damn long.
