i love you tomorrow

The boy arrives very soon. See: tomorrow. Should I sing the 'Annie' song now, like the football players in that Superbowl commercial? You saw this one?

Of course not, you're in France. Right. Or, does the Superbowl air there, on some obscure station for the American transplants? Would you be watching it if it did. I just saw the (quaint) halftime show and ate fried chicken, pizza and chips.

I told you I want to write some sort of thesis over the next, oh, nine months. Something about beauty in art as an idea, not just some visual tool. That tightness in great, elegant work. A certain farmer-art friend of mine considers this a mark of my bourgeois sensibilities.

Artists I'm digging now who you might pay attention to if you stumble into them: David Thorpe, Edvard Munch (his woodcuts!), Liliana Porter, Elizabeth Peyton and (Northwestern's own) Angelina Gualdoni--actually, we're going to visit her studio in my Friday class. Will let you in on how it goes.