It was a December day at the Louvre. Mona Lisa was waiting for her visitors in a toned, armored, transparent safe. Some of the visitors seemed to be there only for the picture, but did not want to admit it in front of others. Some needed to read about the portrait, while standing in front of it. Some just came to record their presence. Some came to make sure she was still there. Some came to see if she was there at all. Some came only for seconds. Some filmed her for minutes, as if they hoped that in this for her short period of time some miraculous event would happen. She just smiled at all of them equally, did not squint when they used flashes on their cameras. It was not really about her today again. It was about them being there, about them being part of something bigger. It was all about them. It was about their unique presence in time in one of the most easily describable places in this world, in front of one of the most easily recognizable pieces of art.
They were there, in front of *the* Mona Lisa. The one and only.
They were there for a brief private audience. Each one of them special.
She was there before them. I wonder how many of them really saw her.
She is destined to survive them all.

26 Photographs of Louvre visitors in front of the Mona Lisa are now in the catalogue. Enjoy.