James at the museum

The boys and I went to see the exhibit of Rothko's black paintings at the National Gallery. (The exhibit is up in the East Wing tower, which was new to them.) Thomas fell asleep in the stroller, but James loved it. The paintings were all in different shades of black -- eggplant and iron and sable and charcoal -- but the colors only came out after you'd looked for a moment. "I know what he was trying to do!" shouted James. "It's the same as when you turn out the light at night, and it's all black for a minute before you can see things!"