I spent my weekend in Spring Green with a friend and we climbed the hill up to Frank Lloyd Wright's design school at Taliesin. There were these kinda rusty, mod looking chairs scattered around on top of a hill, behind which you could see Taliesin itself in the distance. Of course this is where one of Frank's servants went nutso and locked all the exits to the house, save one, before lighting the place on fire and bludgeoning everyone he could as they fled through the one door he left open, including Frank's then-wife with whom he had run away from Chicago, leaving his first wife and their six children behind. His architectural skills aside, maybe you can tell that I don't have much admiration for Mr. Wright, the man. Mr. Wrong in my book. But I digress. Isn't the surrounding prairie beautiful? Rather belies the grisly story.
