Sister Wendy is a Februarian Too

Happy Birthday Dear Sister Wendy, friend and Art History superstar, 79 on the 25th!

I once roamed the country by the side of this wondrous lady. The universe led me to a job on Sister Wendy’s American Collection and for six months it was my pleasure be her researcher and assistant. Much of my time was spent gathering all the information Sister Wendy required on the art pieces she was covering—no one reads faster. Also, it was essential to keep a good supply of Snapple on hand AND I sometimes had to stand behind her when we were shooting a bit too close to unimaginably important art pieces—Wendy can be wobbly. I became her Dear Child, or D.C., and she my S.W.

As it is her birthday, I shall sing her praises: The lady is immeasurably sharp, her openness astounds me still, as does her ability to dole out equal measures of the gentlest love and slyly naughtiest comments. This past summer we had a blissful reunion at the monastery where S.W. lives in solitude as a self proclaimed freelance nun. After much conversation about the current art scene and digging (yet again) into faith, I asked what I could send her from the outside—museum catalogs, as usual, and then she reminded me:

“Now dear, remember, I do love shiny things!”

So do we, S.W. So do we.

Here she is in conversation with a somewhat awestruck Bill Moyers:

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