NYC PANG MAARTE/

You know how you want to commemorate certain meaningful events in your life. Sometimes, you don’t get a sense of just how important an event is until you look back on it. Occasionally though you get a keen sense that what is happening at present is life changing. That’s how I felt when I walked through MOMA. And then again at Brooklyn Museum and then once more at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I was an awestruck fan, meeting stars on every wall and every corner. It was a beautiful thing, to be surprised by a piece of art. It’s like walking around the mall, minding your own business and suddenly there’s Jericho Rosales right beside you. What’s better is that with paintings, you don’t have to shy away. You can just stop and stare. You can step back and look at them as a whole or venture in closer to really see their pores. If you’re like me when I see certain paintings (and some stars) my eyes open wide, I gush, I coo, I giggle and sometimes I even cry.

Almost every aspect of this trip, I can relive in another setting. Albeit, it will be a more diluted experience. But these museums… these modern master pieces… I can’t find anywhere else.


This is the first painting that ever grabbed me. When I found out that it was in MOMA, I just had to visit. You can’t help but be lured into Christina’s World. I stare at it and wonder how she would have looked had she turned around to face me.











I was never a big fan of Pollock. That is until I saw his work up close. His work has a certain gravitas that you cannot capture in a postcard sized re-print. One Pollock painting should be allotted an entire room. It demands that you stand up and confront its madness straight in the eye.











I think I saw Ron Mueck’s work over the internet, but even then it blew me away. He has a lot to say about the human condition through his fiberglass structures. His creations are forever trapped in hopeless expressions. They're so lonely, you can't help but feel drawn to them.











Van Gogh, you break my heart. Looking at his paintings now, I wonder how anybody could not have seen the genius behind it. It hurts to know that this self-destructive weirdo got his ultimate validation only after death.