Friday, April 20, 2012


Tonight's offering is one of deep azure tiled with soft raspberry squares.  He walked on through the galleries blindly, Cezannes blending into Degas into Picassos until everything was a muted palette wavering before him.  She had told him goodbye so clearly, so dispassionately, so cleanly.  Unable to think, to understand, he struggled to even find the exit.  In the silence of the museum, his heart seemed very loud.