Tuesday. A rainy day. No sun. Just dreary, grey skies. The perfect day for a museum-- except most museums in Paris are closed on Tuesdays-- except for the musee d'Orsay. The line was quite long though-- it seemed as though everyone seemed to have the same bright idea for that rainy Tuesday.
I waited in the hour-long line-- people watching seemed to be the only thing to do at that point. The line was filled with couples, families, and large student groups-- everyone waiting patiently. The street vendors beside the lines advertised their merchandize--reproductions of paintings, water bottles, food. Paris always seems to be alive-- at all times of day and night.
Entering the museum itself filled me with awe and wonder-- the museum had once been a train station in the early 20th century and its large dome roof gave it a sense of grandeur and spaciousness. I could hear the pitter-patter of the rain outside, glad that I was no longer stuck outside and had made it in just before it began to pour.
The paintings were astounding-- a variety of impressionistic pieces by Manet, Monet, Van Gogh, Chagall, Seurat, Cezanne, Matisse, Degas, and numerous other brilliant artists. It is so easy to get lost inside the paintings, wondering about the expressions of the subjects or the mood of the artist as he was painting a certain scene...