Life inside the museum...

I seldom go into a natural history museum without feeling as if I were attending a funeral.

 ~ John Burroughs.

Thankfully, I don't feel the same way. Death is a process, not an object. And a funeral is a solemn ritual that bears little resemblance to the curious, inquisitive and life-affirming, educative environment inside a natural history museum. Anyone who knows me is aware of my love of some of the inanimate objects that are a result of death. Bones, fur, feathers, scales, teeth and leather appeal to my senses, both in terms of their tactility and in regard to the talismanic and fetishistic potency inherent in such objects. A natural history museum is, for me, the best kind of wunderkammer. Sure, objects are often entombed behind perspex and glass, but from their stillness we can learn so much about life.

I was fortunate enough to spend today inside one of the best natural history museums in the world, the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. It was wonderful. I felt like a child amidst the dioramas, skeletons and veritable Noah's Ark of taxidermy creatures. From aardvarks to zebras, they had it all. I wasn't alone in my wonder - I heard so many grown adults 'oooh', 'aaaah' and 'wow!' in delight. We spent many hours wandering the maze of exhibitions and displays and I took hundreds of photos to archive for future use. This is the third natural history museum I've visited in the past 12 months (the other two being in Sydney and Banff) and I've enjoyed my time inside each one equally. There is nothing about them that makes me feel as though I'm attending a funeral. But then, I have spent most of the past 2 and a half months inside a hearse!