So I am reading Patti's beautiful 'Just Kids' - about her starting out with Robert Mapplethorpe. And it is quite frankly the best thing I have read in ages not only is it tender and moving but the way Patti writes, as you can imagine, is so perfect always that familiar/ likable tone and yet still poetic without being contrived. I get increasingly sad as I realise how quickly I am getting through it...
The scene where Patti describes how one of them would wait for the other when they would go to an exhibition for lack of cash - and on one particular occasion outside the Whitney Museum Robert assured her that one day they would both have their work shown there. Perhaps my sensitive nature and fact that I adore both Patti and Robert causes me to well up on reading these small moments. It is weird as strange coincidences seem to occur as I am reading the novel. Then again it could just be my warped mind and my way of linking trivialities.
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