just to say to whomever gets this, not just that we are back in the city after the Vaucluse and Aspen (some lovely music, but goodness does it feel like Beverley Hills or something), and here I am so happily teaching in the fall, in French Ph.D. program: "Art and Text: Mannerism to Modernism" and then in the spring, in the English Ph.D. program "art and text: turns, shifts and bends" taking as a prelude Nicolas de Stael's "Bend in the road in the Vaucluse" which kicked off my talk in Portsmouth, England, this summer, and then in the fall of next year, in the Film Certificate program at the same delightful Graduate School of course, "Film and Modern Literature" -- you know, Henry James and so on...
and that I am so glad to have 2 books coming out in Belgium this fall, one the translation in French of my "Glorious Eccentrics: Modernist Women painting and writing" with added chapters on Isadora and Kay Boyle, thanks to Anne Reynes-Delobel, who translated my seven chapters so I am translating into english her chapters, in case we can reprint the whole thing in English, and how interesting it is, not depressing, that it turns out I can't type more than 2 hours now without my fingers arthritically cramping, and that is for the first time,
like so delightfully some things are for the first time, not like Chapman's Homer or the first cuckoo in the spring or such, but all the same, sort of fun, and we went to the out of doors met performances on HD of Iolanthe and Bluebeard's Castle and then Romeo et Juliette at which all of New York must have been so we sat on the wall
and pretty soon I will think about my ebook contract for a SimplyWoolf, sounds like fun, off to somewhere just on the Hudson right now to not waste the sun
and that I am so glad to have 2 books coming out in Belgium this fall, one the translation in French of my "Glorious Eccentrics: Modernist Women painting and writing" with added chapters on Isadora and Kay Boyle, thanks to Anne Reynes-Delobel, who translated my seven chapters so I am translating into english her chapters, in case we can reprint the whole thing in English, and how interesting it is, not depressing, that it turns out I can't type more than 2 hours now without my fingers arthritically cramping, and that is for the first time,
like so delightfully some things are for the first time, not like Chapman's Homer or the first cuckoo in the spring or such, but all the same, sort of fun, and we went to the out of doors met performances on HD of Iolanthe and Bluebeard's Castle and then Romeo et Juliette at which all of New York must have been so we sat on the wall
and pretty soon I will think about my ebook contract for a SimplyWoolf, sounds like fun, off to somewhere just on the Hudson right now to not waste the sun
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