My friend and I spent a lovely, quiet afternoon at the Fort Wayne Museum of Art today. I love the glass sculptures. There was one I would gladly have brought home with me, a lovely smooth sort of leaf shaped piece in shades of blue about 18 inches long and 12 inches high. Unfortunately it's not for sale and if it was I probably couldn't lift it. I couldn't check the weight because of all the pesky 'do not touch' signs all over the place. Why is it that, when I read do not touch, I immediately want to touch whatever is in front of me. I know perfectly well what smooth glass or rough stone or fired clay or cool metal feels like but still, the urge to touch is almost irresistible. Almost, but not quite. My friend watches me like a hawk. I think he's afraid I'll get arrested or something. So I walk around, with my hands clasped behind my back and use my eyes and imagination. One of these days I'll go by myself and when no one is looking.............
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