The boys arrive. Been looking forward to this, because I love hanging out with my boys.
Rather cryptic meeting place – meet me at the MoMa at 5.30pm
Naturally I am late, MoMa free .. full of people.
I think on the list of things which most annoy me
1) Shiny white trainers
2) Men who don’t believe that I can read maps and grab it from me to check
3) Tourists who take flash photographs of paintings. Buy a post card for heaven’s sake. Hopefully you wont forget if you’ve seen the Mona Lisa
The Moma is so replete with blockbusters- its almost vulgar. To name some
Les demoiselles d’Avignon (or as I like to think of it, the angular hookers), Starry Starry night (or what happens when you paint on crack) and Frieda Kahlo’s stuff (she is my girl hero- it’s the girl brow, and the bedding Trotsky thing).
Missed the Abramovitch exhibition – which from the sound of it, rather scandalous. Naked people arranged in a way that, as the audience you are forced to interact with them. Why is it, as people we have this innate distaste for nakedness I wonder?
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