I don't hold on to people, or much, seldom. I live in a very small apartment. I work, at a subsistence level, to maintain a lifestyle that is spurred by curiosity and creativity more than any kind of acquisitiveness. Sure, I like beauty, but hardly behold it without regarding its fleeting nature in equal measure to its luminosity. What then do I want from this life? A chance to be kind, I suppose, and to experience kindness in return. I keep myself at a distance most of the time, more content to observe or direct than truly participate. It is safe, this bone-deep bred solitude. Every now and then, though, desire appears and rushes through me like a force, reminding me what is well and truly meant by being alive. I have never ached to possess anything like I want this cloak, now.
[Christian Wijnants, at Project No. 8]
Windowlicker - from the French for window shopping: faire du lèche-vitrine - is more or less on summer hiatus, and will return in the fall.
so apt this is what you are craving most given that it will render this fundamental emotional autonomy you are describing as even more luxurious, voluptuous. yes, yes: but of course the lady lux needs a cloak.
Posted by: lisa rosman | August 22, 2010 at 08:07 PM
You are reminding me that my grandmother improbably made my doll a champagne-hued slubbed cloak with hood, and that I should really find that the next time I'm home.
Posted by: cinetrix | August 22, 2010 at 09:40 PM
heart.
Posted by: mikki | August 23, 2010 at 07:55 AM
Beautiful! And you could wear it well dear one!
Posted by: laural | August 24, 2010 at 08:57 PM
The cloak is lovely. The writing about your yearning for the cloak is inspired and inspiring.
Posted by: Laura Leigh | September 15, 2010 at 10:44 AM