My love for art museums may have something to do with the fact that I fell in love in an art museum. Not only was an art museum the site of one of the first dates with my now-wife; it was also the place where I recognized that this woman had captured a part of me that I couldn’t get back even if I wanted to.
Falling in love is a little like an avalanche. There’s a long, slow buildup, a softening, a thawing, a stirring under a seemingly stable surface. Then, all at once, one is swept away.





