Bean

A man was lying on the cement and staring up at the underside of the bean sculpture. Beneath him was the bacteria of society's shoes, the very thing that coats the entire nation, and still, he giggled at the flanging manifestation of himself upon the stainless steel outer shell of the artwork. I watched him for a moment, listening to his laughter and wanting to join him, to find myself lost in the idea of reflection--to wonder momentarily if the images in the mirrors were in fact a separate reality wondering why a couple dozen tourists were huddled around their world--pointing, laughing and wondering.