While I was in Houston for the Woodlands Waterway Art Fair, I carved out a little pocket of time to visit the Menil Collection. And truly, it felt like stepping into a different tempo.
The Menil is free to visit, but what struck me most was what wasn’t there. No photography allowed inside the galleries. At first, that instinct to reach for my phone kicked in. It took a moment to slow down.
Without screens, without documenting, the experience becomes more about presence. You’re just there with the work, letting it sit a little longer than you normally would.
The galleries themselves are dimly lit, almost hushed. Not in a sleepy way, but in a way that asks you to slow down. It creates an intimate viewing experience that feels very far from the bright, crowded, check-the-box museum visits we’re all used to.
The Menil holds a substantial collection of work by Max Ernst and René Magritte, both central figures in Surrealism. I’ll be honest, Surrealism has never really been “my thing.” I’ve always admired it from a distance but never felt pulled in. Until this visit.
There’s something about seeing a large body of someone’s work all at once, in a space like this. You start to notice patterns and recurring symbols. And in that quiet, low-lit environment, I found myself settling into it. It didn’t happen all at once. It was more like the work slowly grew on me as I moved from room to room. A shift I didn’t see coming, but one I appreciated.
After the Menil, I went to check out the Art is Inflatable installation, and the shift in energy was immediate. The Balloon Museum felt like stepping into the complete opposite experience. Part of the larger Pop Air “Art is Inflatable” exhibition, it leans fully into play. Bright, interactive, and unmistakably photo-friendly, it invites you to touch everything, climb in, and document the moment. I even found myself taking a few videos, which says a lot after the no-photos rule at the Menil. In a couple of the interactive rooms, I was reminded of my cloud charms, those soft, rounded forms floating somewhere between playful and serene. There’s even a massive ball pit filled with millions of white balls, which tells you everything you need to know about the vibe. Where the Menil asked for stillness and attention, Balloon encouraged movement and participation. Less quiet contemplation, more sensory joy.
This show is a tour, so if you’re in Miami, that’s the next stop.
If those soft, cloud-like forms caught your eye, you can explore my cloud charms, each one handcut and shaped with that same balance of play and calm in mind.
And if you want first looks at pieces fresh off the bench, along with more behind-the-scenes stories like this one, you can sign up for my newsletter.