Blue Door, Red Door

Even under the cloud-covered morning sky, the force of the tropical heat pushes down on me, as oppressive as the heavy clouds. I walk on wet, shiny streets to Parque Central in Granada, Nicaragua, drawn to the majestic colonial architecture. On the steps outside the Centro Cultural Museos Convento San Francisco—with its own impressive Spanish colonial doors—the top of my head feels distinctly hot. I look up to see cloudless blue, the temperature and the aspect of the sky finally matching. Inside the museum and converted convent dozens of colorful wooden parrots hover between the teal blue ceiling and the ground. Folk art, all dots and waves and clear colors, is mounted on lime green walls. In one of the museum's courtyards, I stop in front of a fountain behind which hangs two colonial doors, a blue one and a red one, as part of an art installation. Which door to take? And where would it lead?

Chihuly in Wonderland

At the Dale Chihuly exhibition at the Denver Botanic Gardens, I walked from the Perennial Walk to the Monet Pool to the Japanese, Montane, Licac, and Rose gardens. In each, blown glass sculptures intermingled with the landscaping. Vermilion prongs rose up from a bed of basket-of-gold and lilies. Mauve prongs rose out of a lake. Spidery, succulent-like glass of every color grew out of water or among ferns or sage bushes. Royal blue spheres floated down a river and ones of bright yellow, orange, and blue piled into an abandoned boat. A Willy-Wonka, Alice-in-Wonderland fantasy world of nature and art.