Monday morning at the Met

This morning I wandered through the museum with reverberated gloom in my headphones. I wanted to visit my favorite statues and paintings before things begin closing again. The galleries were mostly empty and I felt a little shady, wearing a mask while my footsteps reverberated through the silent halls of Greek marble, European oils, and Asian scrolls.

I always find solace in the depictions of Venus mourning the death of Adonis, the way she cradles her lover’s body while gazing into the heavens for answers, her face flickering between longing and defiance, depending on my mood.

Each night in 2020, I wrote a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I wanted to etch these days into my memory. Before the world changed completely.
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