Word: timings
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Right before sundown on Friday, I used my printer more than I had the rest of the time I've owned it. I printed directions, calendars, phone numbers and notes for the book I'm writing, in case I needed to work on it. I clearly have lost all understanding of how long 24 hours is. And of the fact that I would never write anything longer than my name with a pen. A few minutes later, our babysitter showed up, and Cassandra and I headed off to dinner. We were 11 minutes into our experiment when, sitting in traffic...
...without a phone to pretend to be busy with. So I stared at people at nearby tables, which, while normal in 2000, is totally creepy now. But the real problem was trying to get to a party afterward. We got lost without the GPS, and by the time we got there, Cassandra's friends had already left. "Joel, this is your fault," Cassandra said many, many times. At 11:22 p.m., just four hours into our experiment, she turned on her phone and started mad texting. I could tell that we were not going to light even one candle...
...should never be turned off - one simple text would have kept Cassandra's friends at the party, which would have led to more drinking and Liberace-level candle lighting - I did learn that I'd rather hang out with my wife and son than find out every time someone retweets me. I don't want to feel the need to respond to everything as soon as I can. But I do, of course, need everyone else to respond to my e-mails, texts and calls right away. That's why I need to become a much, much bigger celebrity...
...Matisse fundamentally reinvented painting. His works of that period - there are almost 120 in the show, including canvases, prints, drawings and sculptures - truly were radical inventions, new answers to the fundamental question of how to construct a picture. They were also, no surprise, considered ugly and incomprehensible in their time. Matisse once said he wanted viewers to feel about his art the way they would about "a comfortable chair" - an odd sentiment from a man whose art was more like an electric chair...
...years right after 1913 were an anxious time for Matisse. Born in 1869, he entered his mid-40s more visible than ever in the art world, but with work that to the French was still an eyesore. Though for the first time he was making enough money from his art to buy his family a comfortable house in a Paris suburb, much of his income derived from a single Russian patron, Sergei Shchukin, a wealthy merchant willing to fill his drawing room with Matisse's most difficult pictures while Moscow society snickered. (See the top 10 art exhibitions...