Almost ten years ago when I was on a British book tour for my novel
I didn’t know what to expect as I entered the cavernous hall which originally housed turbines, but I was suitably overwhelmed and transported. I’d grown up in New York and was a museum brat, was already visiting the Guggenheim, MOMA, and The Metropolitan in elementary school, but had never encountered such an imposing venue.
I drifted from floor to floor not really drawn to anything in particular until I saw a sign for a Brancusi exhibition. Now, I’d of course seen some read more >>>
Source : HuffingtonPost.Com