Last night I happened upon a few hundred people hanging out in the National Mall; it was one of this year’s Screen On The Green, a showing of Close Encounters Of The Third Kind in the open air, with the Capitol for a backdrop. And in the midst of the gathered crowd, there was Metafilter’s own Mr. MoonPie, waving at me. So I got to join him and his lovely wife and some of the most laid-back people in DC for the screening. I stayed long enough to hear the famous five-note chant ring out across the Mall, and then wandered to the memorials, which I’d heard are best seen at night. Magnificent.

The Washington Monument

The plan for today was to wander the Museum of American History, but I found myself thoroughly uninterested. It was bric-a-brack, detritus of the past which was only distinguished by having been touched by the hands that made history. Their magic hadn’t worn off on it, it hadn’t been made any more special by their use. It was just… stuff.

I fled to the National Gallery. I have an insatiable hunger for art these days. Seeing Rembrandt’s self-portrait, being able to look at his brush strokes upon it, the unlikely way in which he used color and texture to create himself on the canvas. This is what matters.

So now I have seen Magritte’s The Human Condition up close. I’ve seen a Jackson Pollock which filled my whole field of vision, dizzyingly. I’ve met Rembrandt’s self-portrait stare, and found it hard to tear myself away. I’ve watched Calder’s enormous mobile rotate slowly above throngs of tourists.

A view from the Portrait Gallery

I find myself inspired. Possibly overly-inspired; I’ve absorbed an enormous amount of artwork over the past few days, ranging from lunatic crafts to incredibly refined realism, and it’s overwhelming. The most important thing I think I’m coming away with, though, is the motto that’s inscribed over the Throne, the theme of the week: fear not. Do what you want, try things, see what you like, keep refining that process. Learn, expand, create, grow, make, repeat. Play with the process.

Oh, and one more thing I’ve leared. If Mr. MoonPie recommends a restaurant, listen. I had unimaginably good soft-shelled crabs for dinner this evening, at a restaurant just two blocks from my hotel. I’d never have known about it without him. If he recommends a dumpster, I’m eating there.