as you may surmise, i’ve been on a toot about the getty center all week long. (and this is not the final post on the subject.)
my mother could talk to anyone about anything and talked to strangers all the time. i guess you could say, “he’s his mother’s son,” for no matter what corner i turn, i will find someone i don’t know, but after a few minutes and careful probing (“he’s a mind-reader!) i will know more. that’s my angle.