When I was a small boy, I was sent down to Washington DC (from home in New Jersey) to visit my Uncle Alan and my cousins. We went camping on the beach...I remember being eaten by mosquitos. But one morning, my uncle dropped me off in DC to do some exploring...he dropped me off in front of the National Gallery.
I walked up that grand staircase that leads to the central rotunda. Arriving at that immense dome with its fountain and statue of Mercury pointing upwards to the sky, I stopped in my tracks. Awestruck at the vast open space. The small naked figure pointing to the infinite. Overwhelmed by the setting.
In some ways that was my first real introduction to the power of art and architecture. Coming back to that space today, I climb up the stairs with a sense of anticipation that something transformative will occur. And it does in smaller ways. Still that first moment of breathless "wow"... it lingers as a reminder of the power of the artist, the architect, to transform our sense of the world...and our place in it.
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