One D.C. afternoon, I took the Red Line to Dupont Circle station. I walked one block west on Q Street to 21st Street and entered the doors of the Phillips Collection. Next, dreams came true. Sitting on a bench in the Rothko Room, standing in the Laib Wax Room, turning the corner to encounter Bonnard, Diebenkorn, Grandma Moses, and The Migration Series. I consciously reminded myself to breathe.
Hours later I walked back onto the street and consciously reminded myself to eat. Crabcake pasta at Afterwords Cafe, and a buy-one, get-one-free good fortune at Astro Doughnuts (cinnamon and lemon-blueberry, respectively). It was more than two weeks ago, and I am still gathering my thoughts about that one May afternoon.