. . . Fireworks. Say what you will about the calendar (with its celestial reminder that there is an order to our days), something more spirited is at play when one season slips into the next. By the time the summer solstice arrives, Memorial Day has already jumpstarted the … [Read more...] about A bench, a book, a patch of grass . . .
Rose is a rose
In the last gallery of The Steins Collect, which recently ended its run at the Metropolitan Museum, is a glass case with books, their own form of art by virtue of both writer and illustrator. What captures my attention is not the fact that Gertrude Stein employed her inimitable prose style to write … [Read more...] about Rose is a rose
