I was drawn to two sculptures by Gene Koss at the Ogden Museum of Southern Art. Encased in glass and sitting on pedestals to the right of the elevator, two of his pieces, "River-Dam-Run"(1979) and "Hurricane on the Bayou"(2000), reveal the beauty and hostility of mother nature.
             I first concentrated on the glass and steel sculpture "Hurricane on the Bayou." The use of crystal clear glass and the jet black steel gave this piece a very cold feeling and sent a quick shiver up my back. Feelings of anxiety over the familiarity with the recent storms were quickly overcome as I could not help but to stare deep into the hypnotic swirls of transparent glass that encased darker whips of steel in the shape of a hurricane. It looked as if I placed my finger on the surface it would slide off as if it were gliding across a slip and slide. To the outside of this magnificent sphere was a protruding piece of glass at the top left in the same transparent shade. I thought of this as a piece of land. The sphere was supported by steel at the bottom, and its geometric lines formed a shape I perceived as a ship. Glancing up further, the steel pushed up into a semicircle which supported the structure at top. In amazement at how a piece of art could bring so many emotions of uneasiness and fear, I took my focus off the steel hurricane at the right-center of the sculpture. Once again I thanked God that we had missed the wrath of Hurricane Ivan.
             As I walked over, I started to gaze at "River-Dam-Run." The piece of land seemed ever so softly etched out with its indentations being at least as smooth as the running water that frequented it. One could assume that if you were to touch the canyon-like structure there would be a sensation of a warm, sun-kissed summer day complimented by the silkiness of a Japanese robe on the palm of your hand. As I shifted, I noticed the earthy browns and deep reds that composed the majority of the glass landscape. However...