I think people doubt my devotion to Paul Newman sometimes, especially now that he's gone. But not only has it not dimmed in the least, I've also figured out a way to (yet again) discuss him in my master's thesis. Do you know why? Because if there's one truism about my life, it's that I will always find a way to talk about Paul Newman (some more).
So I submit to the jury what hangs on my living room wall, proudly and a little sadly.
So I submit to the jury what hangs on my living room wall, proudly and a little sadly.
It's from Hud. I commissioned it from a wildly talented artist of my almost-acquaintance. I consider its placement in my home my official entry to the Charmingly Obsessive and Borderline Eccentric Brigade (Howard Roark was the founding father!!!!). Before I owned this, I didn't have an answer to the question, "What would you save if your house was burning down?" Now it's less a question and more a firm statement. An avowal, if you will.
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