A day at the Stanford museum. Things were visually rich, yet I felt that I was reasonably inconspicuous. The Rodin sculptures were very personal and not terribly subtle. I saw Escher things in the ceiling design, when I decided to sit in a foyer somewhere and simply pretend to rest. Walking back, the displays seen in the bark of the eucalyptus trees, and the torment and fear (of others? of themselves?) in the faces of those who were walking towards us, were as dramatic as anything I had seen in the art galleries. Our appetites were enormous, and we went to a smorgasbord that evening. A rich experience in every possible way. (with 20 mg) The drug effect first became known to me as a shift of colors toward golden and rose tones. Pigments in the room became intensified. Shapes became rounder, more organic. A sensation of lightness and rivulets of warmth began seeping through my body. Bright lights began pulsing and flashing behind my closed lids. I began to perceive waves of energy flowing through all of us in unison. I saw all of us as a gridwork of electrical energy beings, nodes on a bright, pulsating network of light. Then the interior landscape shifted into broader scenes. Daliesque vistas were patterned with eyes of Horus, brocades of geometric design began shifting and changing through radiant patterns of light. It was an artist's paradise--representing virtually the full pantheon of the history of art. Trip report by Alexander Shulgin