The murmur of the audio guides sound like the art is whispering its secrets to those who'll just listen.

But few do.

They'd rather stare gape-jawed, not at the art, but at the captions, as if they'll retain any of it past leaving and heading back to their nine-to-five life of watching "The OC" and "American Idol".

Looking at the actual art is just an inconvienance.

On the rare occasion, a beauty really, actually looks at the art itself. Drinks it in, lets it flow over them and take them in. Someone who doesn't just want to say they were at a show.

Someone who wants to know those whispered secrets.

The concentration on their faces, the body posture as they lap at the fountain of wisdom and truth in each piece. The visible manifestations of ideas and knowledge taking root in fertile soil.

Those are the people I want to know.

And in the same way I wish to devine the secrets of the art, I watch to uncover their secrets as well.