Slightly off topic but still too much a beauty to not address -- phrases and descriptions that capture the essence of a feeling so well that in its rarity and simplicity, shines and slices through the verbal romantic's mind.
One such encounter at the MET about Walker Evans' use of the Polaroid SX-70 camera:
"it's instant prints were for the infirm seventy-year-old photographer what scissors and cut paper were for the aging Matisse"
What will be my palliative tool when thin eyeliner brushes and finely bristled mascara wands no longer become an option?
xox
