Napoleon said the Piazza San Marco was "the drawing room of Europe" - for me, the Great Court of the British Museum is the drawing room of London -
Whenever I'm in London, I visit the Museum - I gaze at the Winged Bulls from the palace of Sargon II - they have the faces of grave counsellors - I then immerse myself in the classical world, feeling the weight of a silver tetradrachm in my hand, marvelling at a bronze mask of Dionysos, seeing Darius flinch before Alexander's stare -
But this time, whilst I sipped a latte in the Court, I was thinking about the floating world -
I'd spent the last dream filled hour in a reverie, feasting my eyes on prints of serene Japanese girls, entwined with their lovers -
I'd tiptoed round the dimly lit space, fearful that I'd disturb those rapt, ecstatic, couples -
I put down my exhibition guide with a sigh - I pictured myself wearing a kimono, not a green tweed jacket - a soft voice would whisper in my ear -
Above me, the glass roof showed the tranquil sky, a marvellous soothing blue, soft white clouds - I closed my eyes, feeling my heart leap like a young hare -
But this time, whilst I sipped a latte in the Court, I was thinking about the floating world -
I'd spent the last dream filled hour in a reverie, feasting my eyes on prints of serene Japanese girls, entwined with their lovers -
I'd tiptoed round the dimly lit space, fearful that I'd disturb those rapt, ecstatic, couples -
I put down my exhibition guide with a sigh - I pictured myself wearing a kimono, not a green tweed jacket - a soft voice would whisper in my ear -
Above me, the glass roof showed the tranquil sky, a marvellous soothing blue, soft white clouds - I closed my eyes, feeling my heart leap like a young hare -
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