I was, perhaps, six, when I took my first formal art class at The Burrowes School of Art in Georgetown. My Aunt Desiree was a renown Guyanese artists, and when she returned from her fellowship in the UK she made sure we were actively involved in the arts, which I could only every say a million times Thank you! It was from there that my love of art was either created or blossomed. Fast-forward ten years later, I am now studying art as part of my undergraduate (Yes, I can count. Iwas sixteen when I went to university), with a focus on Islamic and Asian Art (we did not have an African Art lecturer during the time I was there, but focused on African and Persian Art forms within Islamic Art). Fast-forward sixteen years, and here I am in one of my favourite galleries, not too far away from my old workplace--National Museum of African Art. 

On this day, a trip to the National Gallery of Art's, East Building was a must. I wanted to show the hubby a few Pop Art (one of his favourite genres) and a few Surrealist and Abstract Expressionist pieces. In entering one is greeted by Calder. He greets you celestially creating a feel of balance and serenity. And, man, do we need such a greeting before heading upstairs to Abstract Expressionists who have been known to draw me in, then spit me out in a whirl of confusion and darkness. Amongst some of the usual suspects were Pollock and Rothko, both riddled with depression, drug abuse and suicidal thoughts juxtaposed with a Nietzschean mysticism. Illuminating the soul, thankfully, is Leo Villareal with his Multiverse--a tunnel of lights that is exactly what the soul needs before leaving. 

When in Washington DC, I highly recommend a trip to this Gallery, as I feel that the East Building is often overshadowed by its more prestigious and grandoise sibling, the West Building. You will not regret it. And if you are emotionally dramatic in your analysis of art as I am, perhaps don't study the Abstract Surrealist as deeply as I have.