 |
| Molded plastic seats in the Metro stop adjacent to the stadium |
 |
| Court 1 |
 |
| Me not playing |
 |
| Sloane Stephens playing |
Monday, May 28, 2018
Roland Garros
May 28th, 2018
Yesterday saw our long-awaited trip to Roland Garros to watch the first day of the French Open. The weather was glorious, the grounds were beautiful, the tennis was top notch, and the crowd management was atrocious. Three out of four is not bad. We saw an entire match featuring Sloane Stephens, an American with a fairly high seed, and parts of two other matches. I guess the other headline player we saw was Kei Nishikori, whom we cheered on as he handily defeated hometown favorite Maxime Janvier. Here are some photos featuring the vivid orange of the French clay.
It was a great day (and French Mothers' Day, to boot!).
Saturday, May 26, 2018
The Portuguese Embassy
May 26th, 2018
Champagne and canapés at the Portuguese Embassy---that is how Glenn and I recently spent a beautiful Parisian spring evening. No, we don't know the ambassador (although Kate knows his sons). By virtue of being parents of a child at a fancy school in Paris, we were once again given a glimpse into an echelon of society that we don't often see.
We took the metro to the northwest corner of Paris, a neighborhood with a concentration of embassies and grand homes. The sun is not setting until well after 9pm here now, so even at 7pm, the sky was bright. A gentle breeze was starting to usher in an evening freshness. About 200 people were gathered in the embassy and the grounds surrounding it, to drink, eat, chat, and enjoy the spectacular evening.
We took the metro to the northwest corner of Paris, a neighborhood with a concentration of embassies and grand homes. The sun is not setting until well after 9pm here now, so even at 7pm, the sky was bright. A gentle breeze was starting to usher in an evening freshness. About 200 people were gathered in the embassy and the grounds surrounding it, to drink, eat, chat, and enjoy the spectacular evening.
And then last night we spent another elegant evening with dinner and champagne at a spectacular apartment in the heart of the 7th. It was hosted by another EJM parent.
Pretty soon it will be back to take-out on the back deck in Newton!
Friday, May 25, 2018
The Cost of Privacy
May 25th, 2018
The last few days have brought an inundation of emails asking me to confirm participation in online newsletters or sending me updated privacy policies. The emails are courtesy of the new European online privacy laws, which go into effect today. The impacts on ad-supported content could be substantial, I'm afraid, with the broad-based general-interest outlets being hit the hardest.
Here's a quick explanation. Basically, the new privacy laws will make it more difficult for websites to collect and store your personal information. While this can have many benefits to consumers, the costs are substantial and less well-understood. Website like nytimes.com collect personal data to better target advertising to its readers, which is actually a win-win-win for them, the advertisers, and the readers. Nytimes.com likes to serve ads that readers will click on because that's what their advertisers are willing to pay for. Readers also like targeted ads. They would much rather have potentially useful ads---ones they might actually click on and purchase from---than a bunch of irrelevant ads for Viagra clogging up the websites they visit. It has, in fact, been documented that consumers, on average, do prefer targeted advertising, despite the occasional creepiness. (By the way, if you think that a website knowing that you recently googled "porch furniture" is creepy, just imagine a world where platforms could neither target advertising nor discriminate on the basis of the advertising's content, another policy proposal on the table in the US. My prediction is that 80% of the online ads in that world would be for pornography.)
So not being able to target as effectively will hurt the websites, the advertisers, and the readers using them. But it won't hurt all ad-supported websites equally. Think, for instance, about a (fictional) website designed specifically for owners of labradoodles, labradoodlers.com. Even if that website collects no personal information from its visitors at all, it will still do a pretty decent job of targeting advertising to them. They probably own a labradoodle, which means that they buy dog food, dog medicine, and dog accessories. They may also like labradoodle t-shirts and socks and tote bags. So merchants selling those things already have a very targeted audience, essentially for free. Contrast that with users of CNN.com or merriam-webster.com or any general-interest website. Without personal information, advertisers know very little about them. So advertisers will be less willing to buy ads that support those sites. One can imagine a future internet populated with the niche and special interest and void of the mainstream and general interest.
So the EU, in a well-intentioned attempt to protect the privacy of consumers, may be leading us towards a more fragmented and fractured (and polarized?) online experience than we already have.
The last few days have brought an inundation of emails asking me to confirm participation in online newsletters or sending me updated privacy policies. The emails are courtesy of the new European online privacy laws, which go into effect today. The impacts on ad-supported content could be substantial, I'm afraid, with the broad-based general-interest outlets being hit the hardest.
Here's a quick explanation. Basically, the new privacy laws will make it more difficult for websites to collect and store your personal information. While this can have many benefits to consumers, the costs are substantial and less well-understood. Website like nytimes.com collect personal data to better target advertising to its readers, which is actually a win-win-win for them, the advertisers, and the readers. Nytimes.com likes to serve ads that readers will click on because that's what their advertisers are willing to pay for. Readers also like targeted ads. They would much rather have potentially useful ads---ones they might actually click on and purchase from---than a bunch of irrelevant ads for Viagra clogging up the websites they visit. It has, in fact, been documented that consumers, on average, do prefer targeted advertising, despite the occasional creepiness. (By the way, if you think that a website knowing that you recently googled "porch furniture" is creepy, just imagine a world where platforms could neither target advertising nor discriminate on the basis of the advertising's content, another policy proposal on the table in the US. My prediction is that 80% of the online ads in that world would be for pornography.)
So not being able to target as effectively will hurt the websites, the advertisers, and the readers using them. But it won't hurt all ad-supported websites equally. Think, for instance, about a (fictional) website designed specifically for owners of labradoodles, labradoodlers.com. Even if that website collects no personal information from its visitors at all, it will still do a pretty decent job of targeting advertising to them. They probably own a labradoodle, which means that they buy dog food, dog medicine, and dog accessories. They may also like labradoodle t-shirts and socks and tote bags. So merchants selling those things already have a very targeted audience, essentially for free. Contrast that with users of CNN.com or merriam-webster.com or any general-interest website. Without personal information, advertisers know very little about them. So advertisers will be less willing to buy ads that support those sites. One can imagine a future internet populated with the niche and special interest and void of the mainstream and general interest.
So the EU, in a well-intentioned attempt to protect the privacy of consumers, may be leading us towards a more fragmented and fractured (and polarized?) online experience than we already have.
Wednesday, May 23, 2018
Communist Scavenger Hunt
May 23rd, 2018
In an earlier post (May 1968), I included the following photo I took of a small mosaic tribute I found to communist journalist Jules Vallès. It was on the side of a building near the Panthéon, if I remember correctly.
Then out walking a few days ago, I just found this mosaic tribute to Georges Pilotell, an artist and communist political cartoonist from the same era as Jules Vallès. It was on a post of the wall surrounding Luxembourg Gardens.
In an earlier post (May 1968), I included the following photo I took of a small mosaic tribute I found to communist journalist Jules Vallès. It was on the side of a building near the Panthéon, if I remember correctly.
I wonder how many there are around the city. I tried googling to find the story behind these portraits, but I came up empty. Does anyone know?
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
Fully Engaged
May 22nd, 2018
I do not count myself among those breathless fans of British royalty, eager for snips of gossip, courtship photos, or details of weddings and other ceremonies. (Neither do I understand the sober defense of the institution of the monarchy in a modern democracy, but I suppose that's a different story.)
Kate and her friend, Thea, however, were fully engaged in the spectacle on television over the weekend.
I suppose that, as far as royal weddings go, this one was not bad.
I do not count myself among those breathless fans of British royalty, eager for snips of gossip, courtship photos, or details of weddings and other ceremonies. (Neither do I understand the sober defense of the institution of the monarchy in a modern democracy, but I suppose that's a different story.)
Kate and her friend, Thea, however, were fully engaged in the spectacle on television over the weekend.
I suppose that, as far as royal weddings go, this one was not bad.
Monday, May 21, 2018
Centre Pompidou
May 21st, 2018
We finally made time yesterday to visit the Centre Pompidou, France's premier museum for modern and contemporary art. It's a crazy building, beautiful in parts but also confusing and difficult to navigate. (The signage was inadequate.)
The collection is impressive. We had a great time taking in the whole sweep of 20th Century art in a couple of hours. They have nice pieces by Matisse and Klee and Kandanski as well as crazier stuff by Duchamp and Warhol and Rothko and Dali. The collection is very broad, which I think presents a fantastic opportunity for educating the public about modern and contemporary art: the influences, the evolution, and the connections. I feel that they fall short in this mission---better organization of the galleries along with a running narrative on signs as one moves from gallery to gallery would go a long way---but, still, the collection is awesome.
Here, first, is some Kandanski and Klee, which I liked, as well as two additional paintings by de Stael and Kemeny:
I love that piece by Kemeny---chair? throne? queen in checkered gown?
And here are two more contemporary pieces whose graphic qualities I appreciated:
Finally, here are Kate and Glenn admiring the artwork. Glenn says, "It's ok, but I would not have this in my house."
 |
| Scupture in the foreground, Sacre Coeur in the far background |
The collection is impressive. We had a great time taking in the whole sweep of 20th Century art in a couple of hours. They have nice pieces by Matisse and Klee and Kandanski as well as crazier stuff by Duchamp and Warhol and Rothko and Dali. The collection is very broad, which I think presents a fantastic opportunity for educating the public about modern and contemporary art: the influences, the evolution, and the connections. I feel that they fall short in this mission---better organization of the galleries along with a running narrative on signs as one moves from gallery to gallery would go a long way---but, still, the collection is awesome.
Here, first, is some Kandanski and Klee, which I liked, as well as two additional paintings by de Stael and Kemeny:
I love that piece by Kemeny---chair? throne? queen in checkered gown?
And here are two more contemporary pieces whose graphic qualities I appreciated:
Thursday, May 17, 2018
Weekend in London
May 17th, 2018
Last weekend, Kate, Glenn, and I went to London. Glenn was giving a talk at LSE on Monday, so we decided to go a couple of days early and make a little vacation of it. And I was very excited to see my friends Julie and Murray, who live in London and whom we first met 30 years ago at Churchill College.
Julie teaches and does research at Imperial College in, . . . well, I'm not quite sure what area. Her Ph.D. from Cambridge is in Chemical Engineering, and she has papers with titles like "Novel Application of Computer Vision to Determine Bubble Size Distributions in Beer." Pretty cool. (She seems to have a number of beer-related publications. To my recollection, though, she was far from the top beer aficionado at Churchill.) Murray also did a Ph.D. at Cambridge, starting his career in research and moving later to become managing director of a firm which handles the growing and transportation of fruits and vegetables worldwide. They are both kind and generous and funny and smart, and we enjoyed our weekend with them tremendously. We were not expecting to see much of their three daughters---now grown and out of the house---but were pleasantly surprised. Their youngest, Frankie, came along with us for much of Saturday. She is studying history at University College London. And their middle, Josie, who is finishing up her medical degree, joined us for dinner on Saturday. They were absolutely charming and delightful hosts as well. (Their eldest, Emily, recently married, does not live in London, so we missed her.)
The main activity on Saturday was visiting the Churchill War Rooms. These were underground utility rooms near Parliament re-purposed as a bunker for Churchill and his advisers from which to prosecute WWII during the London Blitz. Apparently, after the war was won, everyone simply left everything where it was and locked the door on their way out, returning to their normal offices and homes. As a result, the War Rooms are full of original maps, telephones, furniture, household items, and equipment, now on display for us to see. The maps even had doodles and drawings in the margins, as well as carefully-placed pins and notations marking fronts and routes. It felt like a very authentic glimpse into what life was like in that bunker and how the war was prosecuted from the British side.
On the way to the War Rooms, Frankie suggested a detour to see the recently-erected statue of suffragist Millicent Garrett Fawcett. She joins other important figures remembered with statues in front of Parliament, but is the first woman given this honor.
Frankie pointed out the pictures of other men and women encircling the plinth. This, she explained, was to reinforce the idea that social and political change is rarely made by one person, the one cast in bronze, but rather by many who contributed to the effort in important but less visible ways.
(By coincidence, Frankie was wearing a t-shirt with the word VOTE on it, but it was too cold outside so she posed for the picture above with a Puma sweatshirt on top.)
Murray made some delicious chili for us on Saturday night, and we spent the evening relaxing in their new flat and enjoying the view from the balcony. Here is the whole gang visiting the roof of their building. Look at all of those cranes punctuating the skyline!
Sunday started rainy but cleared up and became a beautiful day for visiting the observatory in Greenwich. We took a fast boat from near their flat to Greenwich, walked up a significant hill to the observatory, toured the museum there and enjoyed the view of London, and then had a lovely lunch at a market in Greenwich. I really enjoyed the trip, especially the museum. At first I thought it was just a coincidence that the Prime Meridian would happen to be running through an observatory---what did star-gazing have to do with measurement and artificial gradations of the earth, after all? At the museum, I learned that astronomy and all kinds of measurement have always been intimately connected, so it really wasn't a coincidence. The museum, in particular, told the story of measuring longitude, using either detection of small lunar movements or accurate time-telling, in conjunction with celestial movements. It had originals of some of the very accurate clocks that were built to solve the challenge of measuring longitude.
One great anecdote I read was that the Greenwich Observatory used to physically deliver the time daily to paying customers, through the 1930's!
One thing not mentioned at the Observatory: the contentious 19th Century battle between London and Paris to be the site of the Prime Meridian. We will now have to visit the Paris Observatory to hear their perspective.
Last weekend, Kate, Glenn, and I went to London. Glenn was giving a talk at LSE on Monday, so we decided to go a couple of days early and make a little vacation of it. And I was very excited to see my friends Julie and Murray, who live in London and whom we first met 30 years ago at Churchill College.
Julie teaches and does research at Imperial College in, . . . well, I'm not quite sure what area. Her Ph.D. from Cambridge is in Chemical Engineering, and she has papers with titles like "Novel Application of Computer Vision to Determine Bubble Size Distributions in Beer." Pretty cool. (She seems to have a number of beer-related publications. To my recollection, though, she was far from the top beer aficionado at Churchill.) Murray also did a Ph.D. at Cambridge, starting his career in research and moving later to become managing director of a firm which handles the growing and transportation of fruits and vegetables worldwide. They are both kind and generous and funny and smart, and we enjoyed our weekend with them tremendously. We were not expecting to see much of their three daughters---now grown and out of the house---but were pleasantly surprised. Their youngest, Frankie, came along with us for much of Saturday. She is studying history at University College London. And their middle, Josie, who is finishing up her medical degree, joined us for dinner on Saturday. They were absolutely charming and delightful hosts as well. (Their eldest, Emily, recently married, does not live in London, so we missed her.)
The main activity on Saturday was visiting the Churchill War Rooms. These were underground utility rooms near Parliament re-purposed as a bunker for Churchill and his advisers from which to prosecute WWII during the London Blitz. Apparently, after the war was won, everyone simply left everything where it was and locked the door on their way out, returning to their normal offices and homes. As a result, the War Rooms are full of original maps, telephones, furniture, household items, and equipment, now on display for us to see. The maps even had doodles and drawings in the margins, as well as carefully-placed pins and notations marking fronts and routes. It felt like a very authentic glimpse into what life was like in that bunker and how the war was prosecuted from the British side. 
On the way to the War Rooms, Frankie suggested a detour to see the recently-erected statue of suffragist Millicent Garrett Fawcett. She joins other important figures remembered with statues in front of Parliament, but is the first woman given this honor.
Murray made some delicious chili for us on Saturday night, and we spent the evening relaxing in their new flat and enjoying the view from the balcony. Here is the whole gang visiting the roof of their building. Look at all of those cranes punctuating the skyline!
Sunday started rainy but cleared up and became a beautiful day for visiting the observatory in Greenwich. We took a fast boat from near their flat to Greenwich, walked up a significant hill to the observatory, toured the museum there and enjoyed the view of London, and then had a lovely lunch at a market in Greenwich. I really enjoyed the trip, especially the museum. At first I thought it was just a coincidence that the Prime Meridian would happen to be running through an observatory---what did star-gazing have to do with measurement and artificial gradations of the earth, after all? At the museum, I learned that astronomy and all kinds of measurement have always been intimately connected, so it really wasn't a coincidence. The museum, in particular, told the story of measuring longitude, using either detection of small lunar movements or accurate time-telling, in conjunction with celestial movements. It had originals of some of the very accurate clocks that were built to solve the challenge of measuring longitude.
 |
| Prime Meridian |
Wednesday, May 16, 2018
Nazanin's Studio
May 16th, 2018
One of the most salient and resonant characteristics of this year has been my exposure to art. I have seen more art, learned more about art, and thought more about art this year than I ever have before. Part of this exposure comes from being in Paris: there are dozens of galleries, exhibits, and museums within a short walk of my apartment, not to mention the churches, government buildings, and public spaces overflowing with art. Part of the increased exposure is due simply to the fact that being on sabbatical gives me more free time than I would have in a typical year. But a very important factor has been my friendships with both Nazanin and Astrid. They have both been so generous, inviting me into their studios, sharing their work and its evolution over time, and answering my questions about techniques and media and logistics and constraints and inspirations and connections. These conversations have not only been great fun, but they have also been intellectually challenging and broadening in ways that have surprised me. (I would like to think that this is exactly what sabbatical is for.)
Earlier this week, I had the great fortune of being invited to Nazanin's studio near Bastille. I met her and Astrid there a bit before noon. It is a group studio, a large, bright space with high ceilings and paint-spattered white walls. It was buzzing with activity---artists focusing on details of small drawings, others standing back to eye a large canvas on an easel, still others washing brushes or organizing supplies. Nazanin occupies a back corner, so we walked down an aisle past several other working artists to arrive at Nazanin's space.
She had laid out three distinct series of work for us to see, and I was anxious to see all of them, but my eye went immediately to an oil pastel drawing hanging on the wall. I loved the sculptural quality of the vegetables and the vividness of the colors against the black background. Astrid described it as luminous, which I think is about right. And although I love abstraction in art as well, I am drawn naturally to figurative art, especially the "minor" forms of still life and landscape.
Here are some other drawings in this series. I like the geometries of the melon and garlic.
She had some smaller drawings of figs, too, that I loved. The colors really appealed to me. Here are two of those.
The second series explored the flow of ink on the paper as it branches and organically creates pathways. It was inspired by her work as a cardiologist. (Oh, yeah, did I mention that she is also a cardiologist?!) Here are some examples. Related, she is working on a series which take cues from patterns and shapes and colors that appear in medical imaging.
The final series took its inspiration from Persian music and its different modes. These drawings are also rendered with oil pastel on black paper. Here are a few laid out with a close-up of my favorite.
I love the use of white to create both gradients and sharp contrast.
The idealized view of sabbatical is a year of intellectual growth and discovery. I am so impressed at how Nazanin, having taken a year off of her practice of medicine, is realizing that ideal. I am used to thinking of a much more mundane reality: using my sabbatical to finish up old research projects and just push forward on my already-established research agenda. I'm starting to realize, though, that that view of my intellectual year is too narrow. It's too early, I suppose, to know if and how this new-found knowledge and intellectual exercise might manifest itself in my work as an economist or otherwise, but maybe that's beside the point, and I should just enjoy it for now.
The three of us emerged from the studio into a cold and damp Paris afternoon, walked together to lunch, and shared ideas and stories and musings over plates of spicy tofu and steaming bowls of pho.
One of the most salient and resonant characteristics of this year has been my exposure to art. I have seen more art, learned more about art, and thought more about art this year than I ever have before. Part of this exposure comes from being in Paris: there are dozens of galleries, exhibits, and museums within a short walk of my apartment, not to mention the churches, government buildings, and public spaces overflowing with art. Part of the increased exposure is due simply to the fact that being on sabbatical gives me more free time than I would have in a typical year. But a very important factor has been my friendships with both Nazanin and Astrid. They have both been so generous, inviting me into their studios, sharing their work and its evolution over time, and answering my questions about techniques and media and logistics and constraints and inspirations and connections. These conversations have not only been great fun, but they have also been intellectually challenging and broadening in ways that have surprised me. (I would like to think that this is exactly what sabbatical is for.)
Earlier this week, I had the great fortune of being invited to Nazanin's studio near Bastille. I met her and Astrid there a bit before noon. It is a group studio, a large, bright space with high ceilings and paint-spattered white walls. It was buzzing with activity---artists focusing on details of small drawings, others standing back to eye a large canvas on an easel, still others washing brushes or organizing supplies. Nazanin occupies a back corner, so we walked down an aisle past several other working artists to arrive at Nazanin's space.
She had laid out three distinct series of work for us to see, and I was anxious to see all of them, but my eye went immediately to an oil pastel drawing hanging on the wall. I loved the sculptural quality of the vegetables and the vividness of the colors against the black background. Astrid described it as luminous, which I think is about right. And although I love abstraction in art as well, I am drawn naturally to figurative art, especially the "minor" forms of still life and landscape.
She had some smaller drawings of figs, too, that I loved. The colors really appealed to me. Here are two of those.
The second series explored the flow of ink on the paper as it branches and organically creates pathways. It was inspired by her work as a cardiologist. (Oh, yeah, did I mention that she is also a cardiologist?!) Here are some examples. Related, she is working on a series which take cues from patterns and shapes and colors that appear in medical imaging.
The three of us emerged from the studio into a cold and damp Paris afternoon, walked together to lunch, and shared ideas and stories and musings over plates of spicy tofu and steaming bowls of pho.
Friday, May 11, 2018
Delacroix
May 11th, 2018
We spent last Saturday morning, before Lucas and Jackson arrived, at the Louvre. Our plan was to focus our time on a temporary Delacroix exhibit. Delacroix was an important figure in 19th century France, both artistically and politically. He is also one of Kate's favorites: she chose him for a school presentation she had to do in the fall (her first presentation in French), we visited his former apartment and studio turned museum near us, and we have seen his spectacular paintings in the side chapel at Saint Sulpice many times. Also, her favorite gallery at the Louvre is the Apollo Gallery, whose ceiling he painted.
The exhibit seemed an uncanny encapsulation of so many of the recurring motifs of the year for us: Morocco, courtyards, perspective in painting and photography, the rendering of fabric in painting, French history, revolution, sketching techniques, and, of course, Delacroix. Here is a lesser-known work, painted after a trip he took to Morocco, that struck me as capturing many of those motifs.
Below is a detail of a garment from a painting.
And a study he did while preparing for his ceiling mural in the Apollo Gallery.
The exhibit featured his most famous painting, "Liberty Leading the People," commemorating France's 1830 revolution which toppled Charles X. I include a stock photo of it here because I did not get a good picture of it, and I think it's really cool.
He also did lithography, and many of his lithographs with sketches in the margins were displayed.
Below is a detail I photographed during an earlier visit to Saint Sulpice. It is from one of his paintings there, not in the Louvre exhibit. (We learned that they are not frescoes, which do not fare well in the Parisian climate, but rather were painted on canvas with tinted wax.)
Finally, here is his blog of his time in Morocco.
(The Delacroix exhibit discussed the important influences on his art, particularly Rubens. That reminded Glenn that there was a gallery elsewhere in the Louvre featuring 24 monumental Rubens paintings of Marie de Medicis that we had been meaning to see. So we decided to tack that on the end. We were amazed to be joined by only one other person in the gallery while we were there! The paintings are, of course, masterpieces, but I also found them completely absurd. It is difficult for me to imagine the kind of person who would commission such works: angels present at her birth, Henri IV gazing longingly at her portrait, her tutors admiring her genius, etc. (pause) Oh, never mind. I take that back. In any case, I highly recommend a visit to see them.)
We spent last Saturday morning, before Lucas and Jackson arrived, at the Louvre. Our plan was to focus our time on a temporary Delacroix exhibit. Delacroix was an important figure in 19th century France, both artistically and politically. He is also one of Kate's favorites: she chose him for a school presentation she had to do in the fall (her first presentation in French), we visited his former apartment and studio turned museum near us, and we have seen his spectacular paintings in the side chapel at Saint Sulpice many times. Also, her favorite gallery at the Louvre is the Apollo Gallery, whose ceiling he painted.
The exhibit seemed an uncanny encapsulation of so many of the recurring motifs of the year for us: Morocco, courtyards, perspective in painting and photography, the rendering of fabric in painting, French history, revolution, sketching techniques, and, of course, Delacroix. Here is a lesser-known work, painted after a trip he took to Morocco, that struck me as capturing many of those motifs.
Finally, here is his blog of his time in Morocco.
(The Delacroix exhibit discussed the important influences on his art, particularly Rubens. That reminded Glenn that there was a gallery elsewhere in the Louvre featuring 24 monumental Rubens paintings of Marie de Medicis that we had been meaning to see. So we decided to tack that on the end. We were amazed to be joined by only one other person in the gallery while we were there! The paintings are, of course, masterpieces, but I also found them completely absurd. It is difficult for me to imagine the kind of person who would commission such works: angels present at her birth, Henri IV gazing longingly at her portrait, her tutors admiring her genius, etc. (pause) Oh, never mind. I take that back. In any case, I highly recommend a visit to see them.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)