things on the wall (of a museum)

Yesterday, I was at the LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art). One of the things that confuses me about LA is the juxtaposition of beautiful neighborhoods and buildings between other, quite ugly neighborhoods and buildings. You drive through these ugly streets with huge billboards and just plain old grayness of the concrete around you, and then suddenly arrive at a beautiful neighborhood with palm trees, sand, and a beautiful view of the ocean.
The same situation applies to the LACMA, as it stands out from its surroundings with the tens of lightbulbs outside of the museum itself, as well as the buildings' modern architecture with predominantly red and white colors. I have been to several other museums in LA including the wonderful Getty Center and Villa which I absolutely loved, but for some reason, the LACMA significantly stood out to me. And I realized that the reason I loved it so much is not because of the architecture (because the Getty collects quite a lot of points in that category too), but rather the exhibitions inside (I absolutely LOVE contemporary & mid-late 20th century European art).
The moment that inspired me to write this post was when I saw the painting below.

I'm not sure if you can see it in the above photo, but the lighting above the painting on the right had gone off, and it therefore was standing on the wall in darkness, in great contrast to every other piece of artwork in the room. At that moment, something struck me. Without the radiating yellow light shining on it, this painting looked quite ordinary, almost like something that could be hanging on the wall in our dining room at home.
And then I thought to myself what the room must look like at the end of the day when everyone leaves, and all the lights are turned off. All the paintings of artists who may have worked together at some point in their lives, or who were not even alive at the same time, who lived in the same country and were inspired by one another, or who lived on opposite ends of the world hang still, separated by only a few inches.
When you think about it, it's quite magical. They were all painted by regular people like you and me or your grandfather; when they were inspired, sad, happy, mad, or depressed. And those moments of passion or indifference were found to be so incredible that they deserved to be hung not on the walls of your or my house, but on the walls of LACMA, MoMA, or the Louvre.
And who knows, maybe at night, these paintings come alive and have their own enchanted party...