Rothko

At SAM yesterday after a surprise lunch at the Georgian, I am walking around when all of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, it catches me.


A painting by Mark Rothko.


I gasp and feel myself pulled towards the tall canvas. 


I am fully aware of the cliché and yet, really, truly, I hear nothing around me for a while. 


Just the painting. Just the colors.


I walk to it and then I sit and then I move in the colors.


The transparency, the vibrations, the buzz ... the calm. 


The fulness and the emptiness.