Our last day in London. Where does the time go?
Well time doesn't seem to fly in the Tate Modern, but let's be honest, modern art is just not my cup of Earl Grey.
Some pieces take on a deeper meaning up close, and the Weeping Woman is the first time I've truly appreciated Picasso, but most of the time, I'm sipping my tea and contemplating drowning myself in it.
Still, there are highlights, beautiful pieces like Degas' Little Dancer, complete with a once-vibrant top and tattered tutu. They say he rocked the art world when she debuted, a an unveiling I would have paid to see.
There's a Monet here as well, water lilies of a more blurred and experimental nature. I prefer his works at the Musee L'Orangerie, but it's always a privilege all the same.
Yayoi Kusama keeps a box here as well. Another testament to infinity and beyond, this one green and full of mirrors and light.
I like it, I love it, I want some more of it. That pretty much sums up my Eurotrip time and again. Paris hasn't lost it's allure the second time around, and a deeper exploration of the UK only deepens my appreciation for this amazing culture and the people who compose it. I don't think I'll ever stop exploring Europe, and next time there will be new countries to catch, but I think I'll always look back and wish I was in London or Paris again.
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