I went to the sculpture, climbed up into the brain, saw the murals, and experience the claustrophobic stairs.
My initial enthusiasm has soured.
The two partners were stilted. The gesture was without passion - like kissing your sister.
I've decided that I didn't like it.
In some vague way, I'm disappointed with myself. Its like sniffing at the in-artfulness of a child's Crayola painting.
It just seems to be, that in the gendre of the great public art, "Embrace" was a minor child.