Absorbed by the construction of this painting, I had not noticed I was surrounded by black suits, sunglasses and earpieces. Someone touched my shoulder and asked me to scoot away from my gear and lay on my stomach. We are attuned to security needs today, but pre 911 this was foreign. President Clinton's motorcade passed. Secret service helped me to my feet and watched my gear while I sought out a restroom. That was when I noticed snipers on the rooftops. California dreaming.