Skin in the game IF IT wasn't for the smell, you might imagine yourself to be in a sculpture garden. There are human figures everywhere: some emaciated, almost but not quite to the point of emptiness; some abstracted beyond that, to the bones; one, a woman, still takes up all of the space you might expect--so much of it, indeed, that at first glance she might have been fashioned by Fernando Botero. But these are not sculptures. They are the real thing. They are bodies in the charge of the Univer...
Skin in the game IF IT wasn't for the smell, you might imagine yourself to be in a sculpture garden. There are human figures everywhere: some emaciated, almost but not quite to the point of emptiness; some abstracted beyond that, to the bones; one, a woman, still takes up all of the space you might expect--so much of it, indeed, that at first glance she might have been fashioned by Fernando Botero. But these are not sculptures. They are the real thing. They are bodies in the charge of the Univer...
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