I love Italian Renaissance art, and Italian Renaissance art is full of representations of the martyrdoms of Catholic saints. Thus, I have a rich mental repertoire of ways to imagine you dying when I see you touching art in museums: flaying, red hot pinchers, strategically placed arrows followed by beheading, etc.
Look – I’m no angel. Once I touched the cheek of an ancient Roman bust (I was 16, it was Utah, so…). Thus, I can assure you that statues feel like any other piece of stone. If you’re curious, touch the walls or touch the floor, but keep your filthy, destructive paws off of the statuary.
So – look with your eyes, not your hands, or else know that I am imagining your eyes of a platter.
