At the Museum
In China, there are an extraordinary number of museums. I recently visited the Zhejiang Art Museum in Hangzhou on a Sunday, and it was packed. There’s something deeply reassuring about seeing people visit museums. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but each time I watch someone step into a space dedicated to art, it fills me with a sense of hope for humanity. Perhaps it’s the simple act of taking time for contemplation that makes me feel like we still care about beauty, reflection, and our connection to the past. For me, visiting a museum is more than just a casual pastime: it nourishes me. Every time I leave, I feel invigorated, as though something inside me has been reignited. It’s almost a physical sensation, similar to how I feel after a good massage. My blood flows better, my mind feels lighter, and my body straightens up. I walk with my back a little straighter, as if the weight of the world has lessened. The world outside the museum appears more serene, more humane, as though the act of seeing art has soothed the edges of everyday life. Being in an art-filled space reshapes how I engage with
