Modern art.

Modern art is not normally my thing.  It's the section of a museum that I breeze past on my way to what I consider more significant (or at least identifiable) works of art.  

On my trip to D.C. I spent a little time in the Smithsonian American Art Museum, and while looking for a restroom, I ended up on the modern art floor.  

One piece I came to was in it's own (rather dark) room, with a cushy bench, which after a long day of walking was it's entire appeal for me.

But as I sat on the bench, watching the changing lights bring out new and different parts of the giant canvas, I became a believer.  I sat there for over 20 minutes, just soaking it in.  I wish I could describe what I felt, but I think the artist is much more eloquent than I am.  This is taken from the description plaque:

"The installation unfolds as a kind of silent performance that envokes Hockney's experience of designing sets and costumes for operas even as he lost his hearing.  In the absence of sound, pure visual experience compensates and suggests a different narrative to every viewer. ..To sit in this installation through the entire cycle of light shifts is to take time for what Hockney called the "pleasure of looking" that leads us to understand "how beautiful the world is."

{Snails Space with Vari-Lites, "Painting as Performance", by David Hockney}