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Fin de Siècle Splendor


I've recently been reading some contemporary Taiwanese literature, and the writing is beautifully melancholic.


They write about midnight rendezvous amongst friends on hilltops, and looking down upon a city of too-bright lights below. If sex is in the city, is it not making love when in nature?
"She vowed to the people sleeping soundly in that castle that she would have nothing to do with love. love was too wishy-washy, too degrading...forever engaged in a mean-spirited tug-of-war."
— Zhu Tianwen, Fin de Siècle Splendor
This particular title translates to "end of a century of splendor" — don't you ever feel like the end of a happy moment in your life feels like the death of a great civilization? No matter how small, it feels more monumental than it actually is.



Recently I was invited to attend a dinner with the sponsors of our curatorship; coinciding with the close of the exhibition, it all felt like a surrealistic cap to a dream.

/// dinner: Whittemore House
////// James Cohan Gallery

I received this lovely Downtown exhibition catalogue from James Cohan himself; what a dapper gentleman he is. I was truly humbled during conversation over grilled salmon with mango relish. As a child I often viewed adults as the worst sort of enemy, but as we grow older, we often realize how they are people just like us, and just how much we have yet to learn.



Still swooning over the beautiful lobby inside the quaint victorian-age home.

Wishing you a peaceful evening,
Danielle


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