I was very excited about the MoMA & it didn’t disappoint. While I have to admit that half of it doesn’t make sense to me, it’s still great to see the art that I have studied for years. I was thrilled to see some pieces by artists like Jackson Pollock & van Gogh that I wasn’t expecting. (I didn’t do my homework to know what would be there…oops.)

Amy, however, did not feel the same way. My favorite moment was when I turned around to see her staring at a canvas. She turns to me with an are-you-kidding-me look & says, “Really?…This?…How does this get to be in a museum? Let alone the MoMA??” I tried not to dilly dally too long.

We skipped the first few floors to focus on the paintings, then hurried up to the top floor for the special exhibit featuring an entire floor of Cindy Sherman work. Hooray! Unfortunately I wasn’t allowed to take photos. Sad face.

I had started a new book right before my trip & didn’t finish it until after I returned. The book  was a rather strange novel about artists in the 1800s. Ish. The book actually spanned pretty much the entire history of the world but it ended in October of 2012 standing in front of this painting. (Just for the record, I am not recommending this book because it had a lot of vulgar language & a scenarios.) It did however make me reconsider my entire knowledge of art history. Kind of hurt my brain.

I plan on being this mom (below) when I have kids. We are going to the art museums to draw from the masters!

I think Amy was confused by this one too. Can’t imagine why.