Want Want Want Want

About ten years ago there was a fabulous exhibition of Brontë juvenalia at the Morgan Library in New York: their Angria stories, all (of course) hand written in the tiniest script imaginable, watercolors done by Charlotte and Anne and Emily, one of Charlotte's gloves (so tiny I doubt it would have fit Avocado three years ago when she was ten). Letters and letters and letters, one to the other, each to people outside their family, all rationally organized to give a sense of their lives and their stories. I'm not doing justice to the exhibit, which was just stunning.

And today I read all about the exhibit just opening at the Morgan on Jane Austen. I want teleportation so badly. Cause if it's anything like the Brontë exhibition, it's wonderful. Those of you in the area, go for me, will you? Because unless I find a way to beam to Manhattan in the East 30s, it's not going to happen for me.