Just got home from Washington and I'm sunburned from wandering around that big shiny reflective city staring at cherry blossoms and relaxing. I hadn't realized how much I missed my MARTA until I found myself sketching on METRO (in my sketchbook, not on the train as Haring did , but essential for me).
The thing I wanted to tell you about is the Frackler (well, the Freer and the Sackler but the thing is that we never knew which one we were in, they blend together so we called it the Frackler). Simply our favorite discovery and not so much of a singular discovery (everyone sent us there) but with peacocks and buddhas and breathtaking ceramics, we were enthralled. The lobby at the Frack had a presence, a strange bit of a narrative, a striking smell, a mazillion broken porcelain products...
more soon, Rachael