On Tuesday I flew to Madrid for a handful of hours, for work. But I had a bit of spare time before my flight home, so I went to the Prado.
Before I went in to the gallery I stopped in the cafe because I’d consumed nothing but coffee for the past ten hours. I had a plate of tapas and a single glass of Rioja.
The Rioja was a mistake. Rioja + anxiety + exhaustion led to mild intoxication, and the next thing I knew I was standing in a room full of masterpieces with my heart racing, thinking IT’S LIKE I’M AT A PARTY AND EVERYONE BUT ME IS WEARING A RUFF.
