Dear Ms. Lonely Arts
Ms. Lonely Arts is an advice column offering recommendations to the Brooklyn Museum’s fans, followers, and friends.
Here’s how it works: Maybe you’re super nervous about a first date and need an itinerary. Maybe you’re settling into retirement and want to attend more cultural events. Maybe you’re going through heartbreak and looking for a piece of art that soothes or makes you feel seen. Whatever it is, you can write to me, Ms. Lonely Arts. I’ll do my best to recommend something just for you.
Discover the latest Q&As below. If you missed it, check out the first installment of this series.
Special thanks to everyone who wrote in with an open-minded question or with their heart on their sleeve.
![“[Untitled] (Man in Gallery)” by William Steig](https://assets.emailinspire.com/image-assets/3e903b0c2233b3820f0fb81cbcf7b04b/50aef5a6de6d3d85bd95921ac2acbb97.webp)
Dear Ms. Lonely Arts,
I like art museums but often get exhausted trying to look at and appreciate every piece in the exhibits (especially when reading the plaques). A friend recommended just focusing on one or two pieces in a room and then moving on, but that also seems like I’m potentially missing things that I would like if I just spent more time on them. Any advice on how to pace yourself in a big art museum?
Thanks,
Oversaturated in Art
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Dear Oversaturated,
This is so relatable! Museums can be a little overwhelming—particularly if you’re trying to cram everything into a single visit. Of course, if you’re on holiday with limited time, the pressure is on. A free gallery tour is probably your best bet. It’ll hit the can’t-miss collections, and you’ll be able to ask questions about whatever piques your interest.
Another approach is exploring the Museum by theme. For example, our Nature Lover’s Guide will lead you to works at the intersection of art and the natural world. Or if your horoscope told you to surround yourself with art today, the Astrology Lover’s Guide is for you.
If you have the absolute pleasure of living close to a museum, then I encourage you to embrace the idea of “museum as ritual.” Take it one exhibition or even one gallery at a time, and revisit often. Think of a museum less like a one-stop attraction and more like a gathering place to interact with art on a regular basis.
Hope this helps,
Ms. Lonely Arts
Dear Ms. Lonely Arts,
Hi! I’m having a problem. I’m very upset with Artificial Intelligence (AI) and its increasing pervasiveness in society. AI ought not to replace human consciousness and human conscientiousness. The world has become and is rapidly becoming more and more impersonal. For example, fewer phone calls, fewer human interactions.
Unfortunately, through the freeing up of time because of the (mostly) plentiful sources of food and shelter, human beings are not creating more poetry and learning to play the harp. They are using their idle time to become more judgmental and superficial.
How may I get back to my roots and become more in touch with my friends and the people I know? How can I alert others to the slippery slope that is artificial intelligence and bring society and its people back to humanity?
Distraught, but hopeful,
Humbly Human
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Dear Human,
I hear you. The number of letters I received asking whether I’m AI is indicative of its pervasiveness. (For the record, I’m a flesh-and-blood person!) Yes, AI is real, but so are we. Look at us, corresponding like people ought to.
You’re off to a good start. The fact that you’ve stumbled upon this little advice column means you’re engaging with museums and other arts-and-culture spaces. You’re looking for humanity in all the right places.
Hard as it is to avoid stressing about AI, my advice is to not give it mental airtime. Get your loved ones out of the house, shut your phones off, step away from the screen and into a physical space together. Go to a slam poetry event. Dance the night away. Listen to a symphony orchestra or hear an artist talk about their craft.
Sure, robots are cool, but look at what humans can do and have been doing for millennia. Look at ancient art made by human hands—with the fingerprints of those makers still preserved on the surface, like on this sculpture from Pakistan or this clay hippo from ancient Egypt. Let that give you hope about the things that last.
Yours,
Ms. Lonely Arts
Dear Ms. Lonely Arts,
I’m a woman seeking happiness. There is an individual that offers me companionship and I’m fearful of letting myself go with them. I plan all sorts of outings and dates that show them that I care but struggle with the commitment part of the relationship. How do I let myself go and show this individual that I have what it takes to move forward in life with them? Or rather show myself that I have what it takes?
Sincerely,
Scared but not Alone
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Dear Scared but not Alone,
Thank you for this question and for your vulnerability. Romantic relationships can be tricky, and language about “becoming one” and “completing one another” can confuse matters further. A little reframing: Committing to someone else doesn’t inherently mean losing yourself. It can mean remaining yourself while becoming part of something greater.
Your question made me think of a moon jar in the collection. This beloved ceramic form in the Korean tradition is created by throwing two bowl-shapes on pottery wheels and then joining them together. If you look carefully, you can see the seam at the midsection—a distinguishing feature of these pieces. Another notable attribute: They’re not perfectly symmetrical. In fact, many moon jars slump over or tilt during the firing process. Such imperfection is celebrated as a charming aspect of the artwork.
To me, the process of creating a moon jar feels like the process of building a relationship. You’re not two halves of a whole; you’re two complete entities who come together and form something new. And, no, it won’t be perfect, but that’s part of the fun.
All my love,
Ms. Lonely Arts
Need advice?
From the top: José María Calderón. The Office of Don Manuel Romero de Terreros in Paris (Gabinete de Don Manuel Romero de Terreros en París), 1870. Oil on canvas. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Algara Romero de Terreros, 53.180.1. (Photo: Brooklyn Museum); William Steig. [Untitled] (Man in Gallery). Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Jeanne Steig, 2010.20.65. © artist or artist’s estate. (Photo: Brooklyn Museum); Indus Valley Culture. Body of a Toy Chariot, 3000–2500 B.C.E. Reddish pottery, with modern shaft and axle. Brooklyn Museum, A. Augustus Healy Fund, 37.92. (Photo: Brooklyn Museum); Jar, late 18th–19th century. Porcelain with glaze. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of John M. Lyden, 84.262.8. (Photo: Brooklyn Museum)
