I had one of those art moments once, the ones where you forget about your body and the trees outside. I was with my friend who says it was the first time she ever "understood art."
I believe her. I was there.
I think about that place. That building and it's walls and the art inside. I think of ways I can end up back there.
I was in a liminal space in my life. A literal intermission, between acts. I was joyously innocent to the ways of the future.
I didn't take any photos. I don't think that was allowed. I don't think it would have mattered. There is no secondhand version.
Photo @ The Paris Review
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