Head space in the art space unedited

I'm back. Stood in from of the Marc Chagall That is quietly across the road I don't know what else is quietly sitting just out of my eyeline Whether wraparound sentences are indeed my friend Where am I again? Ahh, here. Experiencing a painting with more within it than I need I love that I don't need all the content Maybe just his use of blue Or the fact that a background face has more detail than those centre stage For all the reasons and none I'm in love with the glass it sits behind From all but one angle it is invisible So you feel nose to brushstroke Or perhaps eye - I appreciate art in the usual fashion I love that people walk by it or linger Just because I think it's great is my experience, not necessarily theirs So I'm sat in a chair, watching people I'm smiling because the next person photographs it She knows it's special in its quiet placement here, without knowing perhaps Knowing without knowing is the best kind Please don't let anyone tell me what I'll like, it ruins it I love the garments people in galleries wear A nod to artistic flair Mine I have no idea of Perhaps the semi brushed appearance of my hair or the fact I have a ruck sack when I should carry a handbag Maybe the many textures in my clothes - I do like that I could at any time be perfect for brass rubbing (should I agree) The whistling man, didn't linger long with the painting despite giving it a second glance, the couple knew the name only - I wonder what else needs to permeate for being affected? Knowing what you don't see, knowing more about yourself from looking It's nice sitting in a space Even if nothing matters or means anything