a dark weather comes. 

once at a gallery since disappeared i showed a picture called the night is still hungry, and she said, oo-oh!  well i don't know how to spell what she said, but i flushed with shame. i was a child and she was the matriarch of the art world. she was so gleaming hard and cool, she said, boy, you want money? you can't handle money! 

anyways we both out of that gallery now. so be it.