My neighbour used to wrap his bushes in barley bags. During the winter, with the snow on them, they would take strange shapes. Reminding me of sculptures by Henry Moore. The artists christo and jeanne-claude have done a similar task with their wrappings. Like snow drifts they appear on the scene and then are soon gone. So their work is more intellectual than emotional. Or at least there is no art left after they dismantle the wrappings. There is the experience of course. Still I am in a quandry what to think of such work. Pictures don’t do them justice. Like pictures of darkening clouds and the threat of storms, you have to be there. But, I’m here.