I took my twelve year old daughter to DC for the weekend. We spent a morning at the Phillips Collection, revisiting some of my old favorites from my graduate school days. I will never forget the first time I saw all these pieces for the first time in real life. It was magical. The thing that struck me most this time seeing all the artwork was the way the rooms were hung. Not by particular artist or year, but by some other element which enabled the pieces to work together as if in conversation with each other. Especially beautiful was a room in the old wing where the light filtered through a scrim silhouetting branches from a tree outside. The light perfectly mimicked the light in this little Degas.