
I Will Never Understand Rothko. Or Will I?
Every time I see one of his paintings, I have exactly the same thought. Stupid boxes. That's all I see.
People keep telling me I'm missing the point. "You have to see them in person." "Stand in front of one for twenty minutes." "Photos don't do them justice."
On December 11th, 2026, at 10:30 a.m., I'm going to Tate Modern, march straight to the Rothko room and stand in front of the stupid boxes for five whole minutes.
No rushing through. No sarcastic comments. No checking my phone after thirty seconds. Just me and the stupid boxes.
Maybe I will finally understand them. Maybe everyone has been right all along. Or maybe I will walk out still thinking they are stupid boxes.
Either way, I will finally have earned my opinion.