My work ID gets me into several city museums for free, including the Museum of Modern Art, which is a good thing because otherwise I’d never go. The idea of paying twenty bucks to go to a museum rubs me the wrong way, bless Washington D.C. Sometimes, I’ll head over for even just ten minutes during my lunch break to stimulate my eyes. Plus, it feels like being on vacation, what with all the tourists, perfumed and looking nice (what is it about art museums that makes people dress-up?).
My favorite spot–in the old Modern and the new one–is the Matisse room.
Reproductions can’t do the paintings justice, of course, but this here is the picture I’d die for:
It hangs next to The Piano Lesson. I sit and swoon.
It is incredible to me how I never tire of looking at my favorite pictures. It is as if the paintings are living and breathing things. They never get old. There is always something new to see.
I don’t weep easily at movies or books or music even. But great paintings, for whatever reason, bring me to the brink.