Forty years after the Summer of Love, we contemplate psychedelic works of art at the Whitney; We dress in colorful minidress and pants and we imagine freedom; we see photographs of resistance; we dream with communes, drugs and orgies; we navigate among nudes and flicking lights; we radiate immersed in the color pink and flowers; we commemorate LSD, the lithographs of the Beatles, and Ringo Star with a dove in his finger; we laugh looking at Frank Zappa seated on the toilet with long hair, mustache and goatee; and we imagine everything was better in the sixties... and then, almost as if we have forgotten, we re-discover the photographs of children bleeding in Vietnam...