Saturday, June 20, 2009

Paris, où, comme partout, quand on peut le voir, l'art est libre pour nous...more or less......




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1 comment:

  1. Bill OuelletteJune 28, 2009 at 11:23 AM

    This is not the best place to comment on the Neruda poem, but I'll comment on it here. What a visceral poem. Disturbing and melancholy. Are you reading Neruda these days? Did something in your travels remind you of this poem?

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