I will forever associate museums with The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt: “Yet the museum always felt like a holiday; and once we were inside with the glad roar of tourists all around us, I felt strangely insulated from whatever else the day might hold in store.” Within these walls, everything is still. You can hear your own shoes clacking against the floor. You drift between rooms and each one has something new. Yet you don’t feel crowded. You feel like you can breathe in this large open space. You walk at your own pace. There’s no such thing as too slow or too fast.
