It turns out I didn't really, and that I actually needed to deal with their arcane, malfunctioning webserver to get what I was after.
The 1/9 train was flooded. The next bus, 10 minutes away. So I walked down Seventh Avenue.
On the walk I was halted by this:
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How many times have I passed the Rubin Museum without even noticing it?
Like a new piece of vocabulary that's ubiquitous after you first learn it, sacred Asian art is around every corner now that we're concerned with it for a project.
The collection is very specific: Himalayan Art. It is also expansive: 5 floors of painting, sculpture, tapestry and textiles. And also beautifully designed: a winding ramp all the way up through breezy galleries.
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The cafeteria, which I should have sampled, is the most delicious smelling part of any museum I've visited.
The trip to Parsons wasn't entirely wasted, not just because of this diversion, but because I was able to witness the unloading of zombie germs on 13th Street.
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