Augusto Esquivel is a sculptor who, in his own words, is “crazy with comparisons of reality and potential and the balance between them.” Perhaps the best example of what he's talking about are his most famous creations: the suspended(悬挂的) button sculptures.

Made entirely from buttons hanging on various lengths of string, Esquivel's sculptures are made to look like common objects: a piano, a gumball machine, and even a toilet. If it wasn't for the clear string hanging above, these objects, these sculptures, would look solid, yet you can put your hands right through them. The process starts with him deciding on a subject and setting the acrylic （丙烯酸树脂）from where the buttons are being suspended. He buys buttons of different shapes and sizes, paints them with spray paint, and carefully hangs them. After that, it's a manner of hanging each individual button, which takes a lot of time. For his piano, for example, he individually hung over 60 pounds worth of tiny buttons.

Esquivel's sculptures, while mostly housed inside art galleries, perfectly capture one of the main principles of street art: something that is eye-catching and something that invites interaction. Often the best sculptures outside the art galleries aren't the ones behind guards and fencing, but the ones people can go right up to and touch. In Vancouver, a series of laughing old men are attracting people for pictures and to just generally hang around, but the people who simply walk by and see the sculptures almost always leave with a smile on their face. That's good street art: it draws the viewer in rather than relying on a gallery to draw in an audience and point them to certain pieces.

Esquivel's art is not only a presentation of talent, something that mentions larger philosophical questions, like the ones he stated above, but also just the right combination of interesting idea and painstaking work. One can look at his work in a critical way, or simply appreciate his idea and execution(艺术品的制作).

    I was never very neat, while my roommate Kate was extremely organized. Each of her objects had its place, but mine always hid somewhere. She even labeled(贴标签) everything. I always looked for everything. Over time, Kate got neater and I got messier. She would push my dirty clothing over, and I would lay my books on her tidy desk. We both got tired of each other.

    War broke out one evening. Kate came into the room. Soon, I heard her screaming. “Take your shoes away! Why under my bed!” Deafened, I saw my shoes flying at me. I jumped to my feet and started yelling. She yelled back louder.

    The room was filled with anger. We could not have stayed together for a single minute but for a phone call. Kate answered it. From her end of the conversation, I could tell right away her grandma was seriously ill. When she hung up, she quickly crawled(爬under her covers, sobbing. Obviously, that was something she should not go through alone. All of a sudden, a warm feeling of sympathy rose up in my heart.

    Slowly, I collected the pencils, took back the books, made my bed, cleaned the socks and swept the floor, even on her side. I got so into my work that I even didn't notice Kate had sat up. She was watching, her tears dried and her expression one of disbelief. Then, she reached out her hands to grasp mine. I looked up into her eyes. She smiled at me, “Thanks.”

    Kate and I stayed roommates for the rest of the year. We didn't always agree, but we learned the key to living together: giving in, cleaning up and holding on.

    Every year, 1.5 million kids around the world die as a result of not getting vaccines (疫苗). This is partly because transporting and storing medicines can be a huge challenge in some countries.

    Anurudh Ganesan, 17, knows this firsthand. When he was a baby in India, his grandparents carried him 10 miles to a health clinic in a remote village to receive a vaccine. But by the time they arrived, the vaccines were no longer usable because they had been overheated.

    Vaccines, Anurudh later learned, must be kept cool to stay effective. But refrigerating them requires electricity or ice – precious resources that many developing countries lack.

    Although Anurudh eventually received the vaccine he needed, his experience as a baby and the sad reality that so many other children aren't as lucky motivated him to take action. The high school student invented Vaxxwagon, a portable vaccine-carrying device that generates its own power to keep lifesaving medicines cool as they're delivered to remote areas around the world.

    Anurudh first got his idea for Vaxxwagon in 2014. He read several textbooks to learn everything he could about refrigeration, and then he did research online to learn more about vaccines. Rather than relying on electricity or ice, Anurudh figured out a way to use wheels to power a refrigeration system for about eight hours. The entire rechargeable cooling system can be pulled to areas in need of vaccines by a bicycle, a car, or an animal. Eventually, Anurudh took his design to professors at Johns Hopkins University for advice. Not only did they confirm Vaxxwagon could work, but they offered him funding to help build it.

    Anurudh was rewarded with the 2015 Google Science Fair LEGO Education Builder Award for his invention. Anurudh says his final goal is to start selling Vaxxwagon to relief organizations, so it can be used to help people around the world.

Anurudh, who plans to pursue engineering degree in college, says, “Don't give up on your ideas. But always try to help others with your projects. That's the point of engineering – to help people.”

    Two of the saddest words in the English language are “if only". I live my life with the goal of never having to say those words, because they convey regret, lost opportunities, mistakes, and disappointment.

    My father is famous in our family for saying, “Take the extra minute to do it right." I always try to live by the “extra minute" rule. When my children were young and likely to cause accidents, I always thought about what I could do to avoid an “if only" moment, whether it was something minor like moving a cup full of hot coffee away from the edge of a counter, or something that required a little more work such as taping padding (衬垫) onto the sharp corners of a glass coffee table.

    I don't only avoid those “if only" moments when it comes to safety. It's equally important to avoid “if only" in our personal relationships. We all know people who lost a loved one and regretted that they had foregone an opportunity to say “I love you" or “I forgive you." When my father announced he was going to the eye doctor across from my office on Good Friday, I told him that it was a holiday for my company and I wouldn't be here. But then I thought about the fact that he's 84 years old and I realized that I shouldn't give up an opportunity to see him. I called him and told him I had decided to go to work on my day off after all.

    I know there will still be occasions when I have to say “if only" about something, but my life is definitely better because of my policy of doing everything possible to avoid that eventuality. And even though it takes an extra minute to do something right, or it occasionally takes an hour or two in my busy schedule to make a personal connection, I know that I'm doing the right thing. I'm buying myself peace of mind and that's the best kind of insurance for my emotional well-being.

    Friends always ask why I, a middle-aged woman with no athletic talent, travel to perilous places—the jungles of Thailand or Borneo, for example, where the water is often unsafe and the food risky; places with infectious diseases, poisonous snakes and the wildest animals; some places where the locals are just a few generations past headhunting.

    I never know how to answer. My travel decisions assumed a new gravity nine years ago after I suffered a stroke. To prevent another stroke, my doctors told me, I'd have to take dangerously high levels of blood thinner (血液稀释剂) for the rest of my life and any travel would be risky.

    I had to think about what was important to me: family, of course, and friends. But then what? No matter how many times I thought about it, no bucket list was complete without travel. Then I had to decide how I might manage the risk. I had to decide how lucky I felt.

    My return to travel after my stroke came in baby steps. The first real test of my travel courage came nine months after my stroke when I joined my husband, Jack, on a business trip to China. After we'd toured the remains of a Tang dynasty temple on a high mountain, Jack wanted to ride down on a toboggan (长雪橇).

    Before the stroke it would've seemed like fun. But now? I hesitated. My mental klaxon (高音喇叭) screamed warnings about the consequences of a cut, a fall, and a crash. Then, gaining confidence from who knows where, I lowered myself carefully into the toboggan, which marked my adventure travel comeback.

    In the years since then, I've traveled about twenty-five percent of the time. Through it all, my lucks held out—no deadly falls, no car accidents or serious infections. For me, adventure travel is a risk worth taking. Travel broadens my world and keeps me connected to nature. What's more, saying "yes" to travel keeps me connected to myself.

    To ensure an excellent experience during your tour of the Mark Twain House, here are some guidelines and general information:

The House is Shown Only by Guided Tour.

    To ensure an optimum (最佳) experience, house tours are limited to 14 people, first-come, first-served. If your group has more than 10 people, call (860) 280-3130 to reserve a discounted group tour in advance of your visit. If you have a party of fewer than 10 people feel free to purchase tickets online: We will hold them at Will Call. The tour schedule is usually online about a month in advance.

Our site is made up of three buildings

    The Webster Bank Museum Center at the Mark Twain House & Museum is always your first and last stop as it houses our ticket counter, museum store, film, exhibits and cafe. All tours gather in the museum center before heading over to Mark Twain's historic 1874 home. Mark Twain's historic carriage house is the third building on our property, but is generally not open to the public. The hayloft (干草棚) has been repurposed into offices and the main floor of the barn is a space available for rent for parties and meetings.

Coupons & Discounts

    The Mark Twain House offers only a few coupons and discounts. The price you pay for admission helps us maintain the beauty of this icon of American architecture. If you are lucky enough to find one of those special offers online or at your local library, keep in mind they are good only for the general Mark Twain House Tours. No passes or discounts may be applied to our specialty tours.