i dream in yellow cicadas

i went to the met with the boy who liked to touch art. he argued that to witness art with one’s eyes is not enough, that it is necessary to feel van gogh’s brush strokes, and the byzantine statue’s curly beard, the sanskrit carved on a plaque, the vase from the ming dynasty.  it is very illegal to do this but it is true. he refused to let authorities prevent him from feeling thick clumps of oil paint or tracing marble dents. to feel it with ones finger tips, to smell it close up, is to really understand it. and you are touching the same stuff a genius artist touched 100s (or thousands) of years ago. the boy who liked to touch art also told me something i found v. funny: in all of human history, the most common and popular way to deface/vandalize sculptures (and statues) is by knocking off the penis. kids do it now, and greek hooligans did in the 12th century too. that is universality. also discovered this weekend that momofuku noodle bar is the best (especially the pork buns), and that there is little better than good greek yogurt with crispy and diverse granola and honey and a banana cut up on top.this is weng fen’s art by the way.

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