How
wanton, right under such a prim veneer. Love the photo of her baking something with her daughter. I compare and contrast the different "batters" in her pictures, across the different spheres of her life...the composition of that one collage is inspired. I wish I could eat something she made for me. Anything.
__________________
She greeted him at the door naked, a champagne glass in hand and a bacchanal raging behind her. “Burgess, dahling!” she cried. One thing led to another...
“And then, just before the petite mort, she whispers in my ear, ‘Don’t come inside me, Burgess dahling—I’m engaged to Jock Whitney!’ ”
|