14 November 2008. Attentive autumn sun. Young Paul--the neighbor's son, his short pants and school satchel, miniature confident stride. Spotting me up the driveway: "Is your name morning...?" An original question. Asopposed to Santa Barbara college girl, seeking radio words to describe a Santa Ana fire: "It was like super super smokey..."
Or maybe all speech...
Theatricality and sincerity. Anthony's note: A Dylan poseur on a London stage...
And yet Gauguin, his ageless young women, side by side, breast to breast, their shoulders melding... The musical figures in Titian's Fete Champetre--each one turned to the other's light...
Renoir: "Wait for me, Gabrielle..."
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