1
I entered the Ashmolean Museum, ready to see some art, but for the first hour I only saw statues and jewelry. How museums teach patience by carefully placing their superficial and spectacular art at the entrance and the real artworks on the top floor. That’s why I never follow the paths that museums suggest you to follow. I like wandering around, almost like an archaeologist, to discover a forgotten artist’s painting by chance and make it the most important piece in the museum.
2
For a man to live forever he has to be ready to die every day of his life.
– The Enraged Musician by William Hogarth 1741
3
Most marble statues proudly posed along the infinite halls of granite with their perfect anatomy or sometimes missing their nose or a limb. But I’m never interested in the big statues that welcome you inside the museum or the ones that are so popular you can see them on the post card they sell at the gift shop. I was interested in the small statuettes that often weren’t even displayed in the sculpture area but rather around some paintings or other artefacts.
[A.I. Generated content]
4
I wonder how many people know the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing that thing. – Richard Feynman
5
I prepared myself for this for as long as I can remember. I prepared you. Everyone was concerned about me and neglected you. But I was more concerned about you. Attention and affection were never important for me, probably because I had plenty of each. I somehow omitted the possibility that you won’t be the same as I am. Perhaps you like how sunlight feels on your arms or the salty smell of the sea. Maybe you call your parents because you miss them and not because they miss you. I know you don’t like instructions so I’m going to tell you a story.
A while ago, I was a fish. I was unhappy with my water tank. Blamed the water filtration system for my blurred reflection in the tank’s glass. I trained my whole life to be able to make the jump. The water looked so much clearer away from home. But when I switched tanks, you, my reflection, were the same. Maybe this tank wasn’t good for me either… Maybe I’m just not a saltwater fish…
Just keep that in mind next time you find yourself dreaming of a different tank.
6
There were three paintings in a forgotten corner of the museum. One that people didn’t even notice, I’m sure. Paintings of a non-painter. Paintings of a poet. Just because you are in the area of the beautiful arts doesn’t mean you have the right to jump from one to another. But oh, this man could paint. Paintings of a man known for his literary nonsense.
The paintings were increasingly smaller and somehow the horizon line was connected through the paintings, passing behind the wall and reaching the next one. I knew it was ultimately just oil on canvas, but I also knew that even though the paintings were done years apart, probably not even meant to be on the same wall, he saw the same sky… Jerusalem, Lombardy, Thermopylae: The same sky. Earth’s sky. I was able to feel that he didn’t want to paint an image of the sky. He painted the sky. The painting was probably one of the simplest ones in the building. The details were precise and nothing was extraordinary. Except the message. The message was peace…
7
How sad I was seeing the guns presented as some sort of ancient artifacts. Together French, and German, and Italian, American, and British weapons. In their time pointed to one another, these guns got to spend their eternity next to each other.
8
Too much history in one place can discourage one to learn about it.
9
A pair of mummified hawks were displayed. There was a time when they were glorified as something sacred. And now only a small tag could tell the ignorant viewer what they represented.
In the present, we don’t have anything that’s ours anymore. We change our clothes, our phone our home so often that nothing will become sacred anymore.
