a long passage from proust, the 6th volume of la recherche du temps perdu (i'm sure that french is entirely wrong, but whatever). if you're really bored you can read it, and then you can tell everyone that you've read proust because you're all intellectual and french like that
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I did read about 2 sentences though, so I guess technically I have read "some Proust back in my law school days."
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I've been hanging out with an NYU sophomore at work lately... she's the boss' daughter and is very cool.
Reading some of your past entries- Alexa is getting a divorce? Wow. I'll just decline to say anything more.
I don't think I said it clearly enough in my last e-mail to you: I am so, so sorry. About everything, especially your grandfather. And as stupid and trite as it sounds, I hope that you and your sister will grow closer... sometimes it takes a while to happen.
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*giggles strangely*
Anyway, I've gotten through most of this, and I might finish it, but I'm curious, in reference to the comment you left in my journal, what this passage represents for you? You said there are ideas in it which represent what you think about art -- can you be more *ahem* specific?
Personally I find in this passage the construction of an artistic "subject" more than its description. I'm not sure I buy the "art provides windows into multiple subjective realities" bit. But I suppose you might have expected that?
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ok, so no more of my difficult diversions for awhile, i'll get back to my wills and trusts, bleh.
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