[1]

Architect Paul Revere Williams opened his own firm in 1922, and his vision and willingness to experiment (1) led to a successful fifty-year career of planning buildings, primarily near Los Angeles. [A] He helped create more than 3,000 buildings, (2) which varied in type, as well as homes for the Hollywood elite. However, Williams did not limit his work to Southern California. His architecture stretches from Washington, DC, to Bogota, Colombia. One of his most interesting designs (3) were in Las (4) Vegas; the La Concha Motel.

[2]

In 1961, Williams, by then a renowned architect, was hired to design a new 100-room motel. Situated among larger Las Vegas hotels, the La Concha needed to stand (5) out. Williams was tasked with creating an eye-catching design that would attract guests. He drew inspiration from a Southern California architectural trend known as Googie. [B]

[3]

Envisioning a motel that combined the name La Concha (which translates to "shell") with the arched roofs typical of Googie architecture, (6) the lobby that Williams designed was meant to (7) appear, from a distance like a giant shell. On three (8) of the ones, Williams designed twenty-eight-foot-high concrete arches that (9) jutted out over the sidewalks. [C]  Inside, the (10) lobby, which was a place for gathering, consisted of a large, open space that functioned as a social gathering (11) place, and included the registration desk.

[4]

(12) Indeed most of the La Concha Motel was torn down in 2005, the famous shell-like lobby lives on. [D] Preservation groups saved it from (13) demolition, and, in 2006, the lobby was moved across town in pieces. Reassembled, it became the visitors' center of the Neon Museum, where retired neon signs· are put on display (14) (the famous neon sign of the cowboy named Vegas Vic was erected in 1951). With a distinctive design that enhances the Neon Museum, Williams's lobby is one of the last remaining celebrated examples of Googie architecture in the United States.

Often dismissed as aquatic oddities, the (16) octopus is part of a species that are among the most intelligent animals on Earth. With the largest brains of any invertebrate, octopuses can solve complex problems. Researchers have documented octopuses navigating intricate mazes and (17) octopuses even open screw-top jars.

In 2012, at the New England Aquarium, an octopus used its anatomical siphon to propel a pill bottle (18) crossed its tank. When the pill bottle reached the other side, a jet stream in the tank returned it to the octopus. Amazingly, the octopus propelled the pill bottle back toward the jet stream. The researchers at the aquarium realized the octopus   was doing something extraordinary:  inventing a version of pitch-and-catch.

In inventing this game, the (19) actions of the octopus were not based on survival. The octopus simply wanted to play. Evolutionary biologists believe play could have an important role (20) through animals cognitive development. According to the Theory of Flexibility, (21) play, the theory says, teaches an animal to modify its (22) behaviors, helping the animal prepare for unexpected situations.

Embracing this idea, researchers at Cincinnati's Newport Aquarium have compiled an "Octopus Enrichment Handbook." (23) Crazy, right? Yet this book provides in-depth descriptions of (24) toys and puzzles researchers have invented for octopuses. One such puzzle is a series of nesting cubes. Each cube features a different latch (25) for the octopus has to open until the octopus reaches the smallest cube. Typically, after just a few weeks, octopuses master this puzzle, solving it in a matter of minutes. [26]

Researchers are interested not only in whether octopuses can solve such puzzles (27) but also in the methods by which they do so. While one octopus might use trial-and-error to unlatch the cubes, another octopus may just (28) use a lot of strength in opening the larger cubes to get to the smaller ones. (29) Therefore, researchers have noted how octopuses modify and improve their methods over time, (30) suggesting that play may indeed be a factor in an octopus's cognitive development.

[1]

In her sand animation (31) Performances, artist Ilana Yahav tells stories through a series of images she creates by (32) operating a layer of sand on a glass surface. She works on a glass tabletop that's brightly lit from underneath, the scenes she forms projected onto a large screen in real time. [A] Viewers must watch closely because each story Yahav tells cascades in images that last just a second or two. 

[2]

(33) To tell a story, Yahav clears sand from the center of the glass. As she shapes the sand around the edges of this space, silhouettes of images, such as the outline of a face, (34) appear. She pinches sand onto the (35) glass to "draw" facial features, and other, small objects. When she wants to create less-defined (36) images, such as a grove of trees or a snowfall, she dusts sand onto the glass with light shakes of her hand. [B] Yahav's hands move (37) fluidly; not pausing while a story is being told.

[3]

Scenes during Yahav's four-minute story "You've Got a friend" (38) illustrates many of her techniques. Using just the side of her hand, Yahav transforms the image of an orange resting in an open palm to that of the face of a young woman, her head resting on her forearm. [C] Facial features, along with a teardrop near one eye, appear when Yahav pinches bits of sand into place (39) on the face of a young woman. A steady sweep of Yahav's (40) hand, then outlining the silhouette of a second female (41) face on the right-hand edge of the glass.  Next, Yahav uses smooth, winding motions with four fingers to great effect, transforming the first woman's limp hair into curls. With one swipe of her index finger, Yahav smudges out the woman's tear. (42) Still, she flicks both hands to add (43) at once flowers to the woman's hair.

[4]

[D] Yahav plans and memorizes every frame of her stories, outlining the scenes on a storyboard similar to the kind filmmakers use. [44]  As she explains, "I use only my hands, my fingers, and my soul." 45

[1]

I had to drag myself out of bed to see the sunrise. Kayla had been insistent. And so there I was in her (46) car, it being 3:30 in the morning, equipped with a seldom-used hoodie and a giant thermos of coffee. “You’ll need this at the top," she said. She handed me a wool hat, which I regarded skeptically. We were in Maui, after all; we had spent the day before lying on the beach. (47) Further, I decided to take her word for it. I had never been • to the top of Mount Haleakala, the "House of the Sun." [A]

[2]

Supposedly, (48) a view of the most beautiful sunrise in the world from the summit of the dormant volcano, 10,023 feet above sea level. [B] Tourists and locals (49) alike make the arduous 38-mile drive, cheerfully navigating the hairpin turns in the dark hours of early morning. Kayla was one of them. I, on the other hand, clutched my coffee and tried not to focus on the (50) well-traveled road before us.

[3]

Once we reached the summit and parked the car, my misgivings were compounded by the shocking cold; (51) being, at most, 40 degrees Fahrenheit. [C] I grudgingly pulled on the wool hat, trudging behind Kayla until we reached the main observation point. About a hundred people had already (52) gathered, a guard rail the only thing separating them from the crater's edge. Granted, all I could see were clouds.  A thick lid of them foamed slowly over the crater creating (53) what looked like the surface of another planet.

It was strange to stand before such alien beauty and hear the familiar murmurs of chitchat and the casual slurps of coffee coming from the (54) collective crowd that had gathered.

[4]

At exactly 5:57 a.m., the sun made (55) its way out of the clouds. (56) Not to mention that someone standing near us began a mete oli, a native Hawaiian chant. We observers stood (57) next to each other shoulder to shoulder and observed as the ascending sun (58) lit the sky golden and casted a rosy blush onto the clouds below. [D] I was simply grateful to be there at that moment, with Kayla, watching the new day break over the island.

In 1797, Andre-Jacques Garnerin caused a stir in Paris when, at an elevation of-3,200 feet, he detached the basket he was riding in from its hot air balloon. Suspended under a twenty-three-foot-wide canopy of silk, (61) people were shocked as Garnerin a.o.d his basket floated to the ground. His stunt is widely regarded as the first (62) trial parachute jump. About three hundred years before Garnerin designed his (63) parachute however, Italian artist, Leonardo da Vinci, had sketched a similar contraption in the margins of a (64) notebook centuries before.

Leonardo wrote (65) prolifically in his notebooks about an enormous range of ideas.  Unlike the nylon parachutes of today, (66) these bend as they catch the air, Leonardo's design, if constructed, would be rigid and unwieldy: its frame consisted of twenty-two-foot-long wooden poles shaped into a pyramid.  It was unclear whether the linen panels anchored to the frame would catch enough air to ensure a jumper's safe landing. Leonardo himself never actually built his parachute. [67]

[1] In 2000, British skydiver Adrian Nicholas decided to test Leonardo's design. [2] The finished parachute weighed 187 (68) pounds; about 172 pounds heavier than modern parachute. [3] He constructed the parachute according to Leonardo's plans, using only materials that would have been available in fifteenth-century Milan.  [4] Because of (69) it's weight, Nicholas had to cut himself free near the end of the (70) jump and deploy his backup parachute. [5] (71) Still, he had proved that Leonardo’s pyramidal design could slow a parachutist's descent. [72]

Eight years later, Swiss parachutist Olivier Vietti-Teppa modernized Leonardo's original concept. His parachute was constructed with nylon and without the heavy wooden frame. Despite his inability to steer the parachute, Vietti-Teppa managed to complete what he called a perfect jump. [73] The pyramidal shape of the parachute allowed him to glide (74) gracefully-and safely to the ground. (75) Before long, Leonardo's historic sketch had become a modern reality.