Over Fall Break I had the luxury to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art on a Monday. As any veteran Museumgoer could tell you, the Met is not open to the public on Mondays. Yet, I have the good fortune of having a mother who happens to be a volunteer at the Met (a love for art clearly runs in my blood!) and was thus able to traverse through the halls uninterrupted.
Being at one of the world’s greatest museums, entirely empty, was like nothing else in the world. The euphoria I feel whenever I step in a museum is indescribable – being surrounded by such vast amounts of beautiful treasures fills me with endless enthusiasm and joy. But being able to explore the museum without hundreds of people – people pushing, shoving, and ruining the ambiance, was an experience in and of itself. The unique ability to stare and reflect on a Manet or a Rodin in complete silence, deepened both my understanding and love for the works.
Last spring I studied abroad in London, where I spent every weekend exploring Europe’s cities – Paris, Madrid, Barcelona, Dublin, Sevilla, Florence – a countless number of artist havens. My prerogative in my travels was to visit museums in every city , to take in as much art in one day as I could. From the Museo del Prado to the Musee D’Orsay to the Picasso Museum, I found myself surrounded by people speaking languages I hardly understood (my Michigan-level comprehension of French and Spanish could only take me so far!) and felt more concerned about keeping my belongings in check and not bumping into fellow tourists  than I did on taking in Guernica.
Thus, as I only have now realized, there is something truly magical about viewing works of art in the sanctuary of one’s own privacy. Being able to muse on my thoughts uninterrupted, thinking about and questioning the works, without distraction, was the most enlightening artistic experience – creativity was endless, comprehension had no boundaries.
