But being here in Malibu helping Lynne with an installation reminded me to call an older and dearer friend Lady Lisa Lyon, one of those people in my life that I can call and and our conversation immediately takes up where we left off even if we haven't talked in ages. I'm so fond of this Mapplethorpe photo of her, which is how we met, receiving a fan postcard from her fronted with the image just a few days after I had stood, tumescing, gazing at a large print of her emerging from the foam like Aphrodite. Her adoptive father John Lilly and I shared an Alma Mater as well as an interest in the edges of experience (and, I suppose, a household full of beautiful women if I had been so fortunate) and he queried me after an isolation tank experience as to whether I had been able to communicate with some of the beings who control our very lives.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Touched by greatness
But being here in Malibu helping Lynne with an installation reminded me to call an older and dearer friend Lady Lisa Lyon, one of those people in my life that I can call and and our conversation immediately takes up where we left off even if we haven't talked in ages. I'm so fond of this Mapplethorpe photo of her, which is how we met, receiving a fan postcard from her fronted with the image just a few days after I had stood, tumescing, gazing at a large print of her emerging from the foam like Aphrodite. Her adoptive father John Lilly and I shared an Alma Mater as well as an interest in the edges of experience (and, I suppose, a household full of beautiful women if I had been so fortunate) and he queried me after an isolation tank experience as to whether I had been able to communicate with some of the beings who control our very lives.
Labels:
amy crehore,
art,
beauty,
fashion,
sexuality
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Hmm. Yummy painting. I envy you your Hibernian grippe.
I suppose it is a bit of a racial slur so I now apologize to all my most dear Éire-ish friends: Kathleen, Kelly, et al by the singing of Flogging Molly.
and mary mcgregor, well she was a pretty whore
she'd always greet you with a smile and never lock her door
but on the day she died, all the men in town did weep
for mary mcgregor finally got some sleep
we'll drink, and drink, and drink, and drink, and drink, and drink and fight!
we'll drink, and drink, and drink, and drink, and drink, and drink and fight!
and if i see a pretty girl, ill sleep with her tonight!
we'll drink, and drink, and drink, and drink, and drink, and drink and fight!
and I spent the past few days in bed with a sinus headache dripping snot... who do you think had more fun? That's right, me. me me me.
Post a Comment