(Well, not the last weekend ever, hopefully. Just the last one before school begins.)
On Saturday, my dad and I went downtown to see a Norman Rockwell exhibit at the Smithsonian American Art Museum. The paintings were from a collection owned by Steven Spielberg and George Lucas. Seeing Rockwell’s art in person is very different from seeing it on the page because the colors are much more vivid and the canvases are of course very large. The pictures were charming — there was a large variety in the subject matter. As I walked through the exhibit, I listened to observers’ comments, fascinated by the emotions and reflection Rockwell’s art inspired in its viewers.
My favorite was when a Hispanic woman held her one-year-old in front of this painting and told her, “That’s gonna be you when you get a haircut!”
Later, in another museum, we walked through an exhibit of Pulitzer Prize-winning photography. I have never seen so many harsh realities in one place at the same time. Those photos are truly unforgettable. All of them made me wonder how it feels to stand and take pictures as those kind of events, both joyous and tragic, unfold it front of you. Some were terribly heart-wrenching. Others caught the glimpses of hope we desperately need to see.