The people who wrapped the Reichstag were only fourteen rows ahead of me.
I am kicking myself for not bringing my framed little swatch of Central Park's The Gates to have them sign. Like a giddy little schoolgirl waiting in line trying to get a autograph from her favorite boy band. Except, I'm the girl with the felt pen and souvenier screaming, "Christo!" "Jean-Claude."
If you could only be as happy as I am right now...
-the end-