National Art Gallery, knowing there's an Arcimboldo show your mom can't wait to take you to, and having just been through the awesome kid section of the gift shop, what else is there to do but don your funky hologram glasses and hang out in the garden atrium with your baby cousin? A funky peace reigned today, the best kind: fun, unexpected, blissful. Warning: a picture of every single member of the household over the age of 1 month with baby Henry features below. He is the gift that keeps on giving.
National Museum of the American Indian, whose reputation for being fantastic is well earned. The key to its success in academic circles is that it doesn't just herald the early (read "primitive") American Indian, but instead presents contemporary American Indian cultures (skateboard art, for instance, or the Indigenous Contemporary Arts Program). There's a post at some point about the concept of the primitive in the Middle Ages (I used to think there wasn't one, that The Primitive is a product of Modernism, but sometimes I'm not so sure). Anyway, here's Iris pushing Henry in his swank stroller.
Good to know I still have a soporific effect on infants. Look how long that little guy is!
unbelievably cynical politics, it looks pretty grand. The thing with architecture is that it allows you to transcend all that. Just ask the domes of Jerusalem: the Holy Sepulcher, the Dome of the Rock, and the Shrine of the Book. The thing with babies is that, I swear, you get that same transcendence - that embodiment of goodness at the very least.