One usually thinks of Matthew Barney’s work in terms of epic scale, head-jamming conceptual ambitions and, of course, copious amounts of Vaseline. In this brilliant survey of his drawings, Barney invites his audience into an intimate microcosm, offering a generous and personal exploration of his thought processes. The small, surprisingly deft and delicate drawings he has produced throughout his career are as meticulously rendered as anything by Dalí or Bellmer, and comparably sexy and strange.
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And the best dad award goes to this guy, who dances to cheer up his son at the hospital
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