Light dancing through the city, looping, twirling, leaping, spinning, sparkling.
Bringing with it joy and a porthole back to childhood wonder.
I could not staring at it - this image by Bernhard Rauscher from Germany - which was part of the exhibition at UNESCO's first International Day of Light.
It was busy day. I leapt off a mountain to crash head-first in a virtual reality game, learned the history of the Aztecs through pigments, painted in 3-D, and watched the light beat of my heart. I was submerged in this flash (light) flood, this new way of seeing everyday things from the perspective of photons and its unrequited love, shadow, who is never far behind.
After great conversations with German coding geniuses, I dragged my elated but tired self to the cute home of Allison and Olivier. I love them as individuals and as a couple. They are like transformers - very cool and capable on their own but when they unite - watch out Decepticons (metaphor for all bad of the world). First of all, no couple needs to be THAT good looking. Seriously. Stop it. Then they are brilliant (as in MIT-trained Biologist and owner of a successful firm smart), funny and just cool, decent folks.
As we sipped one of Olivier's excellent red wines, Ali and I somehow get on the topic of the bedside manner of gynaecologists. Mine has nice manners but looks like Richard Gere. I always want to break out into Razzle Dazzle from the Chicago movie. Which, considering the situation, would be awkward. So I've contained myself. So far.
Are there male gynaecologists? I ask.
Yes, says Allison. They're called proctologist.
Prictologisit? I joke. But nothing is going through the zee zee, right?
Oh no! she exclaims, Not the zee-zee, it goes through the hoo-ha.