What do you do when you collect religious art and you live in Manhattan and have no where to put it?
You send it along with your Espelier fruit trees to the tippy top of the island and let everyone else admire it! I took my parents and Ryan to The Cloisters. It didn't hurt that Ryan and 3 guests got in for free as a perk of his 60 hour work week.*
Did you know that there is a portion of the city that isn't covered with buildings? And unlike Central Park, there are no carts selling waffles, no Frisbee golf matches and as of yet, no Wall St. protesters?
There are Saint's skulls in those busts. They were for parades.
I can't remember what this was, but it was shiny and special.
AND THIS! I didn't even know that it called the Cloisters home until we got here. What little girl didn't have this poster? Turns out it was part of a series of tapestries that someone commissioned.
They hunted unicorns.
And captured them
And stashed the horn. I highly recommend The Cloisters. It has bizarre hours, though, so plan accordingly. Also, I would take the A train to 190th St and walk the rest of the way on a nice day, and catch the M4 on a rainy day.
* He works 60 hours by choice because of his dedication. Not because they make him.
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