Free D.C.

No, that's not a protest slogan, it's a descriptive phrase. Today my partner and I had a little time to kill before an afternoon soiree, so we walked across D.C. to the recently re-opened National Portrait Gallery/Museum of American Art, a duo of attached Smithsonian museums that closed for six years while undergoing extensive renovations. We saw "new" acquisitions (works added to the collection over the six years of closure), including a startlingly dramatic full-length portrait of Denyce Graves, the hometown mezzo-soprano now world-renowned for her debut in the lead role in Carmen and her elegant, colorful voice. The brilliant reds in her dress were so bright, you could swear the lights in the painting were actually electrified. I took special interest in the pictures of writers such as Bernard Malamud, Gore Vidal, and John Updike.

Twenty-five portraits of former Justice Sandra Day O'Connor, painted by both professional and amateur artists, hung in one room. Another had recent works of current entertainment celebrities like David Letterman and Whoopi Goldberg. On the other side, new works of American art hung on the walls or from the ceiling or stood on the floors.

Being in the new-again museums renewed my appreciation for the accessibility of some of the greatest collections of art in the country, as well as for the historical artifacts, textiles, and even biological life in all the other Smithsonian museums in Washington - all an easy Metro ride away, at no cost of admission. I may be tired of the traffic congestion, weary of the continued rant over race relations, and jaded from the insane real estate market and shifting demographics of our neighborhood, but some of the best things in life are still in Washington, and they make living here a joy and privilege.