The lighting is soft and specific, small spots trained on
what is most important. It is quiet,
almost reverential, not quite like a church, but akin to a lecture hall
featuring a respected speaker. The
drawings on the walls are over 500 years old, drawn by undisputed masters,
famous beyond all measurements of fame or celebrity.
500 years ago they
did what I do daily. They lived more
fully with the power of a pencil. The
white mats on dark blue walls make the artwork nearly invisible from across the
room. Up close, the values, the lines,
and even the paper seem to live and breathe.
DaVinci, I remind myself. Michelangelo,
I almost say aloud. I am struck by the accessibility. I relate to the work on a deep and personal
level and I am surprised. These are
small works, sketchbook drawings with flaws and perfections. These are studies, small steps toward some
major work or idea, but in their simplicity, they are magnificent. 
The idea of this exhibit its focused on contrasting beauty,
but it is
also filled with contrasts of line, value , time, and abstractions
and in all of these ideas, this collection of drawings inspires me. I see a bridge to cross. I want my pencils and my paper and more
time. I wish I could buy time, or maybe
trade for it. I want to feel the pull
of graphite across a sheet of paper and never stop. 
For me Art has always been a process, the object on the wall,
a recording of that process. Looking at
the objects on these walls, I am inspired to further my own process and make
more objects to hang on more walls. I
find myself wanting to touch these drawings to feel the texture of the paper,
to smell the passing of time absorbed between then and now, oh and of
course to sit in a lecture hall and listen to these men speak.
