244. That poster had annoyed me for a long time. It looked like a picture of a chalkboard, on which someone had scrawled a series of ovals.
245. It was obvious that it was not just a chalkboard, because the poster was an announcement for an exhibit, held some years ago, at a museum in Germany.
246. Twenty years ago, apparently, someone’s scribbling was considered art in Germany, and ever since this poster had been in our sculpture studio, yellow around the edges.
247. “But that’s Twombley,” my teacher explained, as if uttering a person’s name would be sufficient explanation of the poster.