Broken

It had to happen.  It was inevitable.  I had all that bravado.  It was hubris, really.  I should have shown more humility.  It happened on Saturday afternoon.  The museums broke me.  The fatigue hit.

Saturday got off to a good start.  Went to the market to get some more fruit.  Did a good run to the fantastic Jardins des Tuileries.  (What an amazing park/set of gardens.  So beautiful.)  Felt energized.

And things went well at my first destination. I went to the Musee de l'Orangerie, which a small museum at the edge of the Tuileries gardens.  It's filled with classic impressionist and post-impressionist paintings.  There are lots of impressive paintings there and I loved it.  (Don't worry -- they do not allow pics!)  I think some of the paintings I liked best were by Modigliani and Chaim Soutine, along with one by Cezanne and one by Henri-Julien Felix Rousseau.  But the point is that this is a pretty small museum.  You're out of there quickly.  And I felt good.  I felt like I had one more in me on this Saturday.  Wrong.

I took a nice walk over to the Centre Pompidou.  This is France's most significant modern art collection.  It's not as big as the Louvre by any means.  But its two major floors have lots of works.  And that's when the fatigue set in.  I went through the motions and I enjoyed a lot of the art.  As you'll see in a minute, I snapped plenty of pics of my favorite ones.  But that vim and vigor I had just a day ago -- that hop in my step -- had at least for the moment drained from me.  I bowed to the museum gods.

Anyway, it is an awesome museum.  Some of the super abstract modern stuff doesn't do it for me -- seems (to me) like the artists are trying too hard to be cool.  But there were lots of pieces that I thought were incredible.  Here are some.  (I'm actually going to talk to my decorator -- who should be reading this blog -- about getting one or two of these pieces, at least on loan.)

Please pray for my recovery!

This would go perfect in my living room.