Tipsy at the Musee D'Orsay

I don't have an addictive personality. I've never been interested in drugs, have never smoked a cigarette in my life, and can count on one hand the amount of times I've been "drunk". I'm actually a total light-weight, and get a buzz after one gin and tonic that my husband prepares for me. I am, however, addicted to art. If I don't get my dose of good art once in a while, I go into a kind of creative withdrawal, which leads to a feeling of emptiness.

Today I had the perfect Paris day and I got my art fix. My fantastic in-laws agreed to babysit while I got lost in a museum - one of my favorite things to do. Off I went to the Musee D'Orsay to see the fantastic permanent collection but also the special Edouard Manet exhibit. He is considered "inventeur du Moderne", and a predecessor to impressionism. It's been about thirty years since an exhibit has been dedicated only to him, and he well deserved it. It was breathtaking. 

My mind and soul were nourished by Manet, but my tummy was empty, so I headed to the museum restaurant. I have to say that the only nice thing about this place is the setting. The food is over-priced, of course, and leaves much to be desired, and the tarte aux pommes was very simply disgusting. Seeing the half-eated slice on my plate, the waiter asked me if I didn't like it. I said "c'est terrible". I'm rarely this blunt with waiters because I was one once, and know how hard it is to take criticism about food you had no part in preparing.

I did have a lovely rose (I hate that I can't put accents in these entries!) wine with my lunch, however, making the whole experience a bit more enjoyable. I was never into rose wine before coming to Paris, but have since taken a liking to it. Here, as soon as the weather gets warmer, the rose is drunk like water. It's refreshing and it's pretty.

Needless to say that the one glass of rose made me a little tipsy (yes, laugh all you want - I'm a cheap date!) Let me tell you, however, this is a FUN way to walk around a museum. Toulouse-Lautrec's can can dancers looked like they were going to can can right off the canvas. Degas' ballerinas looked three-dimensional and were doing plies right in front of my eyes. And Monet's lilly pads were lilly padding away, looking more beautiful than ever. 

But it wasn't the rose that was making me tipsy. It was being around masterpieces that were nourishing my soul. Sounds a bit dramatic, I know, but if you suffer from this art addiction as I do, then you understand completely. I need to get my dose once in a while or else part of my soul and the creative side of my brain die little sad deaths. 

The museum replenished me, and the rose was the cherry on top.