Yes that's the Venus de Milo in the background, yes that's my kid in the foreground, but check out the guy on the right of the picture, because he's the one I want to talk about. That guy really annoyed me yesterday and in retrospect I feel bad about it.
Finally a life long dream fulfilled - a trip to Paris, a day in the Louvre, following the signs, avoiding tour groups, dodging down corridors in search of the big ticket sights. First up a quest to find the Mona Lisa. We almost missed it. There are signs all over the museum pointing you in the right direction, except on the room where it actually is. But then out of the corner of my eye I saw her, eyes peeping over the crowd. We back-tracked and slowly worked our way forward. It's the middle of winter and the crowds are minimal, so the journey to stand in front of the Mona Lisa is relatively short. We were almost there, slap bang in the middle, a date with destiny, and there he was; tall and unmoving, his brown jumper blocking the view. We waited patiently. Most people make it to the front, take a few photographs, and then move on so we were confident that he was about to step away. But no, he stood there, just staring at her. Eventually, grumbling under our breath, we gave up and found a path around him and made it to the front.
Hours later we found the Venus de Milo and there he was again, circling the statue until finally he found the perfect vantage point and sat down on the floor, oblivious to those around him.
At the time it annoyed me. After all, there's museum etiquette to live by: keep moving, don't run, talk softly, watch out for scary tour guides waving flowers... And yet now, I wish I'd done the same. Seeing the Venus de Milo made me want to cry. The Mona Lisa is cool - hell it's the Mona Lisa! - but the Venus de Milo is so incredibly beautiful, with soft lighting and positioned in architecture to die for. I wish I had cried. I wish I'd had the courage to cut loose and grab that moment with both hands and respond to that sculpture in the way I felt compelled to. But I didn't, because I don't.
I admire the guy. Who knows how far he had traveled, what roads he'd taken to finally be standing in front of these amazing pieces. It's so easy to get wrapped up in worrying about what other people will think and to lose yourself in the process. Sure, if everyone stood for ten minutes in front of the Mona Lisa it would be chaos, but the reality is that not everyone wants to. Most people just want to say they've seen it and move on. But if it means something, if standing there moves your soul, then why the hell not?
