part of why I love museums…

…my mother took me to the British Museum. The intimate coziness of a world in a book suddenly blew out into a mind-bending scale — the British Museum became our measure of greatness (“I love you *this many* British Museums full!”) and near-infinite possibility (I could dash between Ancient Egypt and 19th century France), if I wanted to). The roundness of British Library reading room became the ultimate symbol of curiosity fulfilled, reinforced decades later by spending not-quite-enough research time as a graduate student in the similarly circular Brotherton Library at the University of Leeds ( The V&A was also magical, as was the Met (first throughThe Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, then in visits as a teen and as an adult)….

For the full “museums as muses” post (includes castles, libraries, knights, Yorkshire, and other a-muse-ments), slip over to

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