But, this morning found me weeping over a paper about saving art in Europe during World War 2. The thing about it was, as the writer pointed out, the museums knew even before the war started, even before their governments would provide funding, that they needed to come up with a plan. And, so they did. And they saved the art. Or most of it.
The Mona Lisa is such a small thing in terms of human life. Original paintings by Monet—so tiny. I would rather people live than art be saved. But, somehow, it was a metaphor for doing just that, saving lives. And all the work put into escape plans! Art hidden in barns, in cellars, as far away from Germany as possible, being moved and moved again in ambulances. It didn't matter how many times.
To think what all those curators thought of the political unrest. For years leading up to the actual war—all the signs of aggression meaning something totally different for them (on top of their own lives)—preserving art for the rest of the world!
The work that can happen because people love.