Several weeks ago my friend Rebecca and I were caught in a rainstorm while strolling through Central Park. Naturally, we made a mad dash for the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
We had no umbrellas and so arrived soaking wet, but we were not the least bit disappointed by this unexpected turn our day had taken. No matter how many times I visit the museum, those wide echoing halls and long corridors always hold something new to see.
On this particular afternoon, my friend and I headed to a special exhibit on the American painter John Singer Sargent (1856–1925). He is known as the leading portrait painter of his generation, producing some 900 oil paintings and more than 2,000 watercolors in his lifetime. The exhibit in collaboration with the National Portrait Gallery in London displayed just 90 of them: gallery after gallery of some of the wealthiest and most brilliant minds of the Edwardian era.
For the past several weeks, I’ve been donning a pair of funky, orange-tinted glasses while using my computer in the evening. This is far from a fashion statement, even if they do make me look like a hipster-wannabe.