I seem to be forgetting to live a little more.
There are no lies in the morning no cheating of age an illusion of eye smoothing skin over bone. No portrait hidden away becoming skeletal and demanding release. Another day to face, my confessor, so laugh at this charting of years. Mirror by Adrian Greene Photo: dresses by Gilbert Adrian at the LACMA
Self Reflecting as a fortuneteller (according to my husband) on the tram in Sarajevo For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. With every acquaintance I make, the population of phantoms resembling me increases. Somewhere they live, somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist. Vladimir Nabokov, The Eye
Pictures representing life and action often grow tiresome when looked at over and over again, day after day. There are but two ways of dealing with a room which is fundamentally ugly: one is to accept it, and the other is courageously to correct its ugliness. Where much pattern is used, it must be as … More The Wharton School – a critical house tour
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees This was beautifully handwritten inside a birthday card given to me by my summer course English teacher in Cheltenham the year I turned 18. These words (and the card) have stayed with me since then and I even had them embroidered on a dress. … More Coloring by words