At the Musee Rodin, upon viewing The Thinker for the first time:
"I don't get it. What's the big deal? It's just some guy on the pot."
-my brother, art critic, and the only sixteen year old in the universe that calls the toilet, "the pot".
How to become a literary, a luminary, to know and feel a sparkling flash of purpose and sense of self? In college, I dreamt of becoming a big city fish. In New York, I'm finding that everyone's a piranha.