At the Gallery of Modern Art there is a swirly land form on the front lawn. Grassy earth spirals gently upward, and two pools twist inward beneath them; it's as if someone with enormous hands just reached down and twirled the ground around. In a better season you can walk on it.

I visited the gallery yesterday and saw some nice cloud paintings, and some nice graphic works with type, some about Scottish history and some by Damien Hirst satirizing food labels.

There was a video called "Most Women Never Experience," and I wonder why it is that half our race should be confined to boredom, if it's so.

Then I stood in the colonnade beside the rain and looked out at the land form. A swan was in the water, feeding at its edge, and gusts of wind blew areas of water toward the swan. I thought how silly art is; then I thought what it would be like if all of our lives were like this: standing in shelter from rain, looking out at a fanciful landscape inhabited by single elegant creature.