"But for now we are young, let us lie in the sun and count every beautiful thing that we see."
From a New York Times' book review of a biography:"
"She had a kind of archive-attachment disorder; she adored lists. She chronicled, mapped, numbered and cross-referenced everything in her life, and even rated her lovers, but she wiped out what didn’t suit her... She said of herself, 'I am always in love.' Yet at her memorial service there were no lovers from the past, and there was no lover to mourn her in thepresent... she had died in a hospital alone, and the last person to see her was her accountant."
I love this.
I also love Miles Davis' Saeta and Solea. The trumpet feels like silken sheets against my body, it's that sensuous.
"She had a kind of archive-attachment disorder; she adored lists. She chronicled, mapped, numbered and cross-referenced everything in her life, and even rated her lovers, but she wiped out what didn’t suit her... She said of herself, 'I am always in love.' Yet at her memorial service there were no lovers from the past, and there was no lover to mourn her in thepresent... she had died in a hospital alone, and the last person to see her was her accountant."
I love this.
I also love Miles Davis' Saeta and Solea. The trumpet feels like silken sheets against my body, it's that sensuous.