Step 1: Drive to the Philadelphia Art Museum, see the Large Glass and peek like a pervert through the wooden wall at "Entant Donnes." Chuckle at puns like "Fresh Widow."

Step 2: Drive around the rest of the country, looking at waterfalls, landscapes, women, bachelors, machines, and windows. Let the memory of the incredible vividness of Duchamp’s world subsume all later perceptions, which appear as pale shadows by comparison. Pull up to the Hudson and breathe in Manhattan, which will only exist, finally, as the site of Duchamp’s secret late-career atelier.

Step 3: Recall, wistfully, that Duchamp owns everything.