I’ve been living in the same West Hollywood pad since ’91. The influence of Tatyana has led to all kinds of cleaning and re-painting and throwing stuff out. A month ago we tossed a large glasstop desk and an adjustable up-and-down chair that I’d been using as my default workspace furniture for a good quarter-century. You wouldn’t recognize the place now. Everything, it seems, is fresh, scrubbed and clutter-free.

Ex-wife Maggie and I outside the Picasso Museum in October ’87, either just before or just after getting married at St.-Julien-le-Pauvre.

Near Omaha Beach, Normandy, France — a day or two later.

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