hirshorn and happy

if i could move into the hirshorn, i would. would anyone notice if i tucked myself under a haring, or threw down my sleeping bag by that klee? oh, probably. but really, it is the kind of art-mecca i could happily spend all my days in, flitting from abstract to abstract, dancing from modern to postmodern and back again. and when it was too nice to be inside? i'd just take my tea in the sculpture garden. (weeee! more pretentious words i have rarely seen come from my typing fingers -- actually that might not be true, i was once a semiotics student)

here is the latest reason for hirshorn-worship -- the brilliant

visual music exhibit

-- from kupka to kandinsky, how music and art connect. an adventure in eye candy and of course, ear candy too.