LINDSEYfullofGRACE

    "Oh no she di'nt" chimed the girl walking closely behind me as I rounded the corner of Tate Street on my way to the Weatherspoon Art Museum.  "Oh yea girl, an den," the other began, as I shuffled off quickly to make my way up the pyramid like stair decorating the front of the building.  As I stood in front of the building , the omniscient shadow loomed over me, half making me wonder what surprises wee being held inside, the other half wishing for the sun as I stood in the brisk fall weather.  I climbed the stairs, making my way to the double set of glass doors.  I opened the first door and entered into a breezeway to the main entrance to the museum, only to see the wide array of signage noting the restrictions on what is and what is not allowed in the building.  The quiet is enough to stiffen the most lively person, I felt, as I was suddenly silenced thought I was already quiet.  The curator at the door quickly glanced over at me, my belongings, and the people around me, searching for rule breakers and potential art destroyers.  Luckily, I qualified as neither.
    I entered the space to an array of photos being snapped.  Snapped up, snapped down, around the corner, you, me, him, her, them, the other person with the camera; the space was adequately observed.  The glowing floor drew me to the center of the building, and, as I crept towards the glowing blue tinted granite, I realized that the glow was the sunlight streaming onto the floor.  Standing beneath the dome, one is immediately humbled, as he realizes that his is but a small occupant in such a large open space.  Moving past the dome, I was drawn down the hallway, towards the window in the back, casting shadows of trees, and the red brick across the street.  Walking past each gallery, one is ever so tempted to peek inside, like a child listening to an adults conversation.  Not straying from the task at hand, I focused on the foyer, the glowing floors, the spot lights on the ceiling often reflected on the floor, the beautiful glowing sconces, and the dome.  All easily noted, and appreciated, with the help of a little stroll and a good, stable granite bench.