My museum, Smithsonian it’s not. It is not as sad as the Holocaust museum either, but exists, here in my mind. I visit it every day, whether I really want to or not. It’s just sitting there, sometimes miles away, sometimes across the street and some days it’s in the room with me.
I can imagine you thinking that’s impossible, but a museum is only a place for collections. “Seat of the Muses” is the Greek definition, so it seems to me my analogy is correct. In my view, my mind collects it all: my pictures, words, sayings, memories, faces, friends, family, even pets. I have an almost overwhelming collection of images and thoughts from my lifetime.
We visit our museum daily, even unconsciously. It’s a muse for expression in every way; a basis for the way we act, speak, write, paint, create, even eat and drink.
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https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2019/09/07/weekend-writing-prompt-122-museum/
The Bag Lady 
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