Running With Scissors

Or, in my boy Matisse's case, sitting in a wheelchair with scissors ...

In either case, are you ready for the Matisse exhibit at MoMA?  This is from the same exhibition that's coming to New York.  Apparently it stopped at the Tate first ...

Wow.  Those Tate boys can really light a room.  I would have killed to see the Chris Ofili show there ...

As has been noted before, I'm angry with MoMA.  But this whole Matisse thing may be enough to make me renew my yearly membership.  So I don't have to wait in any stupid lines and can just go right in.  As many times as I like.  Because I think it costs twenty-five bucks to get into MoMA these days.

To amplify that point, let's say you go see the Matisse show twice.  Then one day you find yourself in the neighborhood and you feel like going a third time but you're thinking "What the fuck?  I've already dropped five dimes on this dude.  Do I need to see it a third time?"

Which would be a perfectly reasonable conversation to have with yourself ...

Your statement presupposes the absence of a Greek Chorus.  Having one is a handy way of not having to walk around talking to yourself like a crazy person.
Not everybody has one.  I'm singularly blessed.
If everybody had a Greek Chorus and paid even minimum wage, it would be the end of the financial crisis in Greece.

However, such a conversation, were you a member, would be moot.

This from John Richardson in a quicky side-bar on the upcoming show in this month's Vanity Fair ...

     Picasso was a frequent visitor.  According to his mistress Françoise Gilot, their three-year-old son, Claude, was the only child allowed to romp on Matisse's bed.  When his father asked why he loved Matisse so much, Claude said, "Because he's a real painter.  Going to see him is like being in one of his paintings.  Whereas with you, Papa, you steal my toys and make apes out of them. You're not serious!"

Claude was pissed about his toy car being used for this ...