I spent four hours wandering the floors of the Museum of Modern Art. That must be some kind of record for an art retard like me.
By the time I left, my mind was so noisy from all of the messages banging around my otherwise quiet head.
As always, the simplest of things pleased me. A ladder to nowhere; an old fashioned airport departure board; art which, even I can seemingly knowledgably say 'oh well, that simply must be a Lichenstein'.
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