A couple of weeks back, my boyfriend and I were Atlantic Station bound for date night. I had caved into the ad campaign's pleas to come "awaken the senses and challenge prejudices" and bought two tickets for the Friday night showing (or shall I say smelling, hearing, and feeling?) Nervous that it wouldn't stack up against the excitement of the Auburn v LSU telecast I plucked Lee from (gasp), I was relieved to discover Dialog in the Dark had exceeded our expectations.
Not that we had many to begin with. All we knew was that our guides were visually impaired, and that we'd be led through a number of rooms in complete dahk-NESS. I won't reveal the contents of each room, because that would spoil all of the fun - using your walking stick (in failed attempts not to bang your neighbor in the shin) to navigate and relying on your other senses to figure out what simulated real-life scenario you've been brought into.
Guides take a group of about 8-10 folks down either Path 1 or Path 2. It wasn't until around the 5th room that I stopped clinging nervously to Lee (I was a night light kid) and started exploring the pitch blackness on my own. The experience was humbling and opened up lots of questions. What kind of questions will you have? Pony up for this one. And go ahead and count as one of my favorite exhibits?
A couple of weeks back, my boyfriend and I were Atlantic Station bound for date night. I had caved into the ad campaign's pleas to come "awaken the senses and challenge prejudices" and bought two tickets for the Friday night showing (or shall I say smelling, hearing, and feeling?) Nervous that it wouldn't stack up against the excitement of the Auburn v LSU telecast I plucked Lee from (gasp), I was relieved to discover Dialog in the Dark had exceeded our expectations. 
Summer 2004 - Chelsea, England. The summer I discovered color, a world outside of the US, and myself. I spent just as many hours lost in a sea of racks at Topshop as I did jumping from tube station to tube station. It was after a tour of the CNN London headquarters with my Journalism class that I saw her. Stylized from head to toe, poster child of the zeitgeist for British fashion. I need to know where she shops. Directional line to armload of shopping bags ... following imaginary heel trail from Oxford Street to...proverbial fashion mother load. ding, ding, ding. 
