Though somehow the only photos I have from that day are of the Bean.
At least now (after three visits, a course in radical political thought, and seeing Fallingwater) I think I understand the piece of art that is Cloud Gate better.
' ... From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.' The day was breaking. In the disfigured street He left me, with a kind of valediction, And faded on the blowing of the horn.
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