A Visit From Hepburn
It's hard to believe that it's been six years since Katharine Hepburn last visited. And, certainly nothing compares to this marathoner when both she and Cary Grant showed up at the same time:
https://johnwesley73.livejournal.com/397814.html
Last night's visitation was a little different on several levels. Number one was the fact that it was the first time that I have seen Hepburn appearing as her true age, i.e., the age at which she died - 94. The skin of her face and hands seemed to hang from the bones that poked beneath them. There was not even the suggestion of fat anywhere on her body. And yet she was beautiful. Beautiful and strange like dragon fruit. Even her hair; there was only the merest attempt to color it with a bit of reddish tint. But, that was all. An attempt. She seemed proud of her snow white roots.
The venue was faintly familiar. We started out at an apartment house that reminded me of Mrs. Roosevelt's building off Washington Square Park. It wouldn't surprise me at all that Hepburn was familiar with the address nor if they had been friends in life.
The purpose of Hepburn's visit was to commission me to do a set of drawings for her. Apparently she has been following my art career and likes my work. The drawings were to be of different rooms of her home, her place at 244 most particularly. They were to be architectural studies but include people in them as well.
Somehow or other I was able to complete the work within the confines of the visit, about a dozen charcoal drawings the size of a tabloid newspaper.
However, by the time I saw her next, the venue of the dream had changed. Suddenly Hepburn was esconced in Jamaica, New York in a semi-detached house on the same block that I grew up on. And the pictures which now decorated the walls of the pokey little house which was identical to Mommyland (apparently just down the block) had been colored in - by her. They were not full-blown paintings, but much like her hair. Suggestions of color here and there. It was a very interesting technique. I complimented her on them.
End of visit.
https://johnwesley73.livejournal.com/397814.html
Last night's visitation was a little different on several levels. Number one was the fact that it was the first time that I have seen Hepburn appearing as her true age, i.e., the age at which she died - 94. The skin of her face and hands seemed to hang from the bones that poked beneath them. There was not even the suggestion of fat anywhere on her body. And yet she was beautiful. Beautiful and strange like dragon fruit. Even her hair; there was only the merest attempt to color it with a bit of reddish tint. But, that was all. An attempt. She seemed proud of her snow white roots.
The venue was faintly familiar. We started out at an apartment house that reminded me of Mrs. Roosevelt's building off Washington Square Park. It wouldn't surprise me at all that Hepburn was familiar with the address nor if they had been friends in life.
The purpose of Hepburn's visit was to commission me to do a set of drawings for her. Apparently she has been following my art career and likes my work. The drawings were to be of different rooms of her home, her place at 244 most particularly. They were to be architectural studies but include people in them as well.
Somehow or other I was able to complete the work within the confines of the visit, about a dozen charcoal drawings the size of a tabloid newspaper.
However, by the time I saw her next, the venue of the dream had changed. Suddenly Hepburn was esconced in Jamaica, New York in a semi-detached house on the same block that I grew up on. And the pictures which now decorated the walls of the pokey little house which was identical to Mommyland (apparently just down the block) had been colored in - by her. They were not full-blown paintings, but much like her hair. Suggestions of color here and there. It was a very interesting technique. I complimented her on them.
End of visit.