I love Europe. I love its fascinating politics, culture, and languages. I love the people. I love the architecture. I love the fashion. The food. The drink. The constant evolution of multiculturalism dating back to the beginning of human settlement within it’s borders. I even love the weather.
I especially love European art. And that is why, last Friday, I spent five hours wandering through the Museum of Ancient Art (an awkward way of calling the museum where the Renaissance paintings are kept…nothing to do with ancient Greece or fossilized Belgian beer bottles…) in Bruxelles. The building wasn’t in the greatest shape. The art was desperately in need of restoration. In many cases, it was from the later (and much lamer in my humble opinion) Romantic period.
So I began captioning the art. Inappropriately. As I began, I thought I might see only two or three that warranted captioning. Instead, I noticed that the closer I scrutinized the paintings, the more had strange and creepy background images or bizzarely misformed angels.
I will never be able to look at “ancient” art the same way again.