There was more.

After my short tour of the swanky quarter, I returned to the museum and wandered through the exhibits. Back under the tape sculpture, where someone had climbed up inside and was crawling around.

There was a hall with book spines on large photos attached to the wall, and a pile of pens on the floor. Like a giant book recommendation, permanence-making of titles from people all over the world. What people are reading is a reflection of the time.

Other evidence of human art, large posters of phrases to be rolled up and taken with you, a beautiful photo essay of a beautiful couple in the ’70s when being together when you were a black and white pair would be dangerous and/or illegal.

Up into the auditorium, where as I was mounting the stairs a large installation being assembled by workers crashed into its face. Glass everywhere.



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