The best part of being in L.A. (besides seeing my 94-year-old grandmother and hearing stories about her father getting his arm cut off by a table saw in South Africa) was visiting The Getty Museum.
While the paintings inside the buildings were inspiring (especially the Jean-Léon Gérôme exhibit) the architecture, gardens, and outdoor sculptures were, in my mind, the superlative aspect of the museum.
I aimlessly wandered the manicured paths of the gardens and took a lengthy nap beneath the shade of some flowering bougainvilleas.
During my slumber, I had strange dreams of bronze humans strolling through floating gardens amidst checkerboard skies. I awoke in a daze, drove through the smog and traffic of the freeway to the airport, only to find myself back in the cool, wafting breeze of a Colorado night just hours later. I went to sleep happy and pleased and continued to dream...