Have to say, London as a whole didn't impress me favourably. Maybe it's too huge to be appreciated in a matter of 6 days, maybe the fact I like more easily understandable cities (Paris of Saint Petersburg, for instance, one artificially and the other originally laid down with at least a general plan, or Venice, practically immutable in the centuries), maybe the climate, and surely the lack of squares, so common in anglosaxon cities and so crucial in continental ones. Fact is that, while I undoubtly appreciate the single wonderous things it offers, I actually don't like London as London.
Speaking of which, I forgot to mention that I was impressed by the quantity of middle age ivories at the British Museum. I always liked the ivory caskets and I had never seen so many and of such a great quality all together. Those, and the immense quantity of jewels from all ages (I really like jewels) were among the most notable things I remember.
Also, I've been asked during the week why I do like paintings so much. I gave an answer, as the fact that I like to see new things and to make parallels between artists I know and see if I can find links between them, not to mention to see how a given story that maybe I knew since childhood (mostly classical myths) has been depicted by a given artist. It's all true, of course, but the question must have been one of those that went to my mind's background to be worked further upon as yesterday I suddenly got a better answer: I like to see other people's vision of the world.
In a way, I think I like to imagine what was in the artist's mind just as I like to understand what passes in the mind of the people around me (much to their frustration, I might add, especially a given someone who simply hates when I ask things like "So what are you thinking of?"). What can I do, I'm a curious person.
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