A Writer's Life

By Awriterslife

Inside the Frick

I managed to push myself out today, which was the perfect thing to do. I went to the Frick Collection. I'm fascinated by this place (and seriously wonders why all my interests seem to veer towards the 1900-1920s these days): Mr. Frick, after becoming rich in the coal business, built this house in New York especially to house his art collection, even completely redoing one of the recently finished room because he had managed to acquire a piece that needed something a bit different. It's a house, and the art there is not placed according to schools or periods, but of what the man liked. And he has everything: Vermeer, Rembrandt, Turner, Titien, etc. There was a special Renoir exhibit today.

I think I'm fascinated by the passion he takes (aside from the resources of course), the passion to build your dream (dream house, dream job, dream life), the dedication and the patience. I'm learning about patience these days, so hey, maybe that's why I love Mr. Frick. Of course, I also got very intrigued by the inaccessible second floor. Mr. Frick, what did you hide there??

After that, I wandered for hours on the Upper East Side, and walked home to 34th Street.

The catches of the day:
A voice in the park

Under the bridge, beauty

A walk in the park

Here's to hope

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