Pulse in the ankle of a running Titan

This Science News article about seeing in four dimensions converges with the Beijing Olympics and Tibetan sand paintings, leading me to wonder if one corner of the Mona Lisa's smile has ever wished to be unending, immortal, and extend its ruby curve to the canvas edge like an unruly slash?

Sand paintings exist for a moment, sculptures in the fourth dimension, which the monks round off like glass blowers, sweeping them up, cutting them loose, turning away. There is no loss. There is no never really was. There is only cooling down. I don't know about Tibet. I'm a big fan of Heavy Metal.