Sunday, May 25, 2003


Matrix Reloaded was sold out, and we only had three hours before we had to pick up the baby from his dad's house. We headed for the Harry Ransom Center because I'd heard something about a Gutenberg Bible. There was that, and SO MUCH MORE. They had paintings by E. E. Cummings and Arthur Conan Doyle's golf clubs and letters by Dylan Thomas and Gerard Manley Hopkins discussing words and rhyme and meter and a really funny memo from someone (Ernest Lehman? I forget now) to Jack Warner about the importance of securing Richard Burton for the lead in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf in part because it will keep Liz from worrying about where her husband is and a delightful little magazine created by Lewis Carroll for his family and a great Richard Rauschenberg print and a beautiful little Andre Kertesz photograph of a man in the street with a train going by in the background and a gorgeous painting by Diego Rivera of a slightly green-faced girl holding a doll and and and and...

I reached saturation point very early on, but kept on slogging through the collection trying to soak it all in. A great exhibition. Free, relatively sparsely attended, infinitely fascinating.

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