First

I saw the MoMA yesterday as if it were my first time.

MoMA.  NYC.
1:26 pm.  Yesterday.
I mean, I saw things differently.  New things.  Things that must have been there all this time, but things that I failed to see before.  It must have been the time of day that I was there; the light play through the windows was extraordinary.  Certain galleries share walls with exterior walls that have floor-to-ceiling windows.  When heavy clouds rolled through for the briefest of intermissions, standing there with the natural sunlight playing a game of hide-and-seek did a real number on me.  I didn't think it was possible to capture what I was feeling through the lens, so I walked to the window and just stood there.  To slowly watch and quickly take it in before it disappeared again.  It looked like it might storm, it was so dark at times, but then the cloud would roll right along its merry way and the sun would return.

See these white criss-cross lines beamed on the wall above the atrium?  They're bits of light shimmied through the massive window of the museum's outdoor sculpture garden.  Absolutely stunning.  I've stood in this spot dozens of times; how I missed this view, this full view all these years is anybody's guess.

Like I was saying, I saw the MoMA yesterday as if it were my first time there.  I loved what I saw so much that, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I wish someone had been there with me to see it, too.  Yeah.  I didn't see that one coming either.