Considering our usual post-First Friday activities (drinks, dancing, falling, more drinks, making out ... omigod, did I? I did. I threw up. In his sink. Omigod), dragging our asses off the couch and heading to an art exhibit sounded like the last thing we wanted to do on a Saturday morning. But we were wrong on at least one occasion, when Martin Morehouse's Snug Sensation was installed at the Leedy-Voulkos late last fall. Morehouse's purring, pounding white vinyl columns hung in the gallery, suspended from the ceiling, just waiting to provide comfort. The artist's experiment in electromagnetic recording (the sculptures were made to mimic heartbeats, refrigerators and idle engines, and Morehouse wanted visitors to hug them) was exactly the nonjudgmental reception we needed to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and get dressed for Saturday night.
