I got acquainted with him in 1998. It was a summer full of hope and excitement. Everything seemed possible.
Ellsworth Kelly was so easy to fall in love with -- subtle lines and brave abstractions; quiet pencil sketches next to bold colors.
(Hopper -- another important American -- came much later and took much longer).
He used to say that he does not create his works; he finds them.
He died last night.
I keep flipping through the album that I got at the Met one magic evening during that summer.
And the happy inscription I left on the first page.
It seems so long ago...