Last month the little man and I made a trip south. Presidents' Day in Washington, DC. How appropriate.
Can you say, "Grand?" The National Building Museum. Seven stories of open, indoor space with about a thousand people gathered in the atrium (most of them no taller than your belly button... oi). The little man and I headed up above the masses to eyeball the architecture. When I am in a city, any city, in consciously, intelligently, beautifully designed architectural spaces, I am happy. In this particular space, over-joyed.
For contrast (and a big bowl of real Thai noodles), we hopped off the train in New York on the way back up the Hudson River. Serendipity is always the best tour guide. She took us here:
Drink it in, baby, before sliding back onto the train and heading home, where this is the grand space that makes us happy: