I can’t stop saving pictures, so it’s time for another delightful installment of my faux Tumblr. Prepare yourself for fun.
I have become obsessed with Jean Cocteau’s art again. It was so simple and yet so distinctive. I hate myself that when I stayed at the Hôtel Welcome in Villefranche-sur-mer, I wasn’t as appreciative of his pieces on display there. He used to stay in that hotel and even painted a chapel in the village that is now a French national treasure. I was more interested in the beach, my balcony, the cemetery, and the rubble pit that used to be the Hôtel-ker-Maria, though, so I didn’t think to go. Next time, I’ll fix my error.
I need this shirt more than I need anything else in this world.
I need this in my life. I want to drink pink champagne and wear a suit and sit in there late into the night while old records play. Ahh…I was not meant for these days. My time was the early 20th Century.
We have…like…so much in common. Hair and a love of beds.
TOM DALEY INTERLUDE:
Speaking of Tyra, let’s talk about the injustice of me not being on America’s Next Top Model. Here’s how my friends reacted:
Karl wanted to give me a hug.