flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
I am SO grateful that my mother did not find it necessary to enter the scrum directly in front of the Mona Lisa. If you haven’t been to the Louvre, the painting is much smaller than you’d think, displayed inside a glass box, and there are ropes forming a funnel in some attempt to control the seething mass of humanity wanting to see it up close. However, if you stand off to the side and just outside of the ropes, she’s hung high enough that you can see her over people’s heads. You can even take a photo of yourselves in front of her.
And there’s a thing — there were SO MANY people at every museum taking careful photos of the art. Not themselves near the art, not the art in context of the room, just the framed canvas by itself. I don’t get it. If what you want is a clear reproduction, behold, the Internet! People have already done that, with better cameras and conditions than yours, and you can reap the rewards.