Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT March 25th 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we took a close look at the painting Contemplation, 1937/1938 by Mark Rothko, posted below. 

Our prompt was: Write about what comes from looking out a window.”

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Monday March 28th at 6pm EDT,  with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions page.

Contemplation, 1937/1938 by Mark Rothko 

© 2022 National Gallery of Art 

4 thoughts on “Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT March 25th 2022

  1. Patricia D.

    A window provides perspective and a choice – look in or look out?
    What is seen depends on whether it’s day or night, dark or bright, as well as the looker’s being sad or joyful or tired or charged by what is perceived in real time or influenced by memories or future projections.
    What is seen is simply a reflection of the viewer; thus, one can wonder if it is real or not.


  2. What comes from looking out a window~~~

    Dark clouds swirling skyward.
    Songbirds anticipating change, seek refuge.
    The air hangs heavy and thick.
    Rain begins, drop by drop until my view is obscured by the downpour.

    All the sound of the world, all the chaos of the world is muted.
    The only sound existing is the rain pelting against the window and the earth.

    As quickly as it had begun, the rain stops.
    The grass is refreshed, the earth softened and the wren resumes its singing.
    There, stretched across the sky, a beautiful rainbow appears, illuminating the darkness.

    Hope from hopelessness.


  3. what comes from looking literally the window
    never on the ground floor always unsettled
    raised from the hip straight keep it lifted
    towards the ledges where pigeons roost – pigeons
    people too, concrete grey like mud their fat torsos
    & chirp they may not speak like ravens may not
    converse but somewhere in their bird minds
    made of rot of seeds their bird hearts like the quail
    hearts my son ate at Antler in Toronto, rigid
    carnivores the whole bloody parade, tough hearts,
    valves stenosed both leaky & narrow, blood
    going backwards pushing back against the current
    leaning upwards to where the nerve cells originate
    the dense flit of synapses the brain not larger
    than the world not wider or higher & the closed eyes
    made of stars, a meteor shower


  4. Elizabeth

    Life’s paradox of looking outside the window

    Sometimes we feel less alone because we see life going on outside the window.
    Sometimes we feel more alone because life goes on without us outside the window.


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