Freelance fashion stylist and makeup artist.
Fashion and Art writer.
Dancer/Performer and Dance Teacher.
Jewellery maker.
Would-be film maker.
Bad guitarist.
Refuge of eccentrics.
Seeker. Prayer. Lover of a cacophonous collection of people, places and things.
Viva la resistance.
"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand."
"You'll be a hard act to follow, a bitter pill to swallow, you'll be tough, oh you're tough to replace"
"People say she's crazy, she's got diamonds on the soles of her shoes. Well, I guess that's one way to lose these walking blues: diamonds on the soles of her shoes"
She laid me out on the laundromat floor, said "you'll be not nealy who you are anymore, and I'll always be here to remind you what time is for."
3 comments:
You're right! There should be a LAW against working on Sundays! Hope it goes by quickly!
Oh, you poor thing - I hope work is not too painful!
I'm sitting here working - looking out at the beautiful blue sky through my study window - so I feel your pain!
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