Today, I was amazed by a few things. It seems that men around here wear collared shirts casually too. It's so refreshing to see men well-dressed and tailored.
And, in museums, when they say you can't take photos, no one takes photos - they don't even sneak them. Civilizing people. Or maybe it's the security cameras all over the place.
Today was all art all the time, after a stroll past Buckingham Palace and the Big Ben (the largest four-faced chiming clock tower in the world) which is so much more crisp and crafted when observed in person.
I breathed in the ethereal Turner, marvelled at the tormented Bacon at the Tate Britain. John Everett Millais's Opherlia was beautifully detailed. I marveled at The Wilton Diptych at the National Gallery and snapped an allowable photo of Manet's Bar at the Folies Bergeres at the Courtauld Gallery. And, finally, after a long day I gasped at the real-blood refrigerated self portrait of Marc Quinn in the quite stunning National Portrait Gallery.
London is only proving itself as an immeasurable resource for art... I'm starting to see myself studying here... inspiration is coming back to tackle those grad school applications. Cheerio London, cheerio.
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