My husband has suggested I would make a great bartender or vampire. Or maybe a vampire bartender? Since I rarely imbibe, know little about mixing drinks, and have no taste for blood, I have my doubts. He makes these suggestions, naturellement, because of my insomnia issues, which have plagued me off and on for years now. For now, it’s on again.
I have a lot on my mind–some of it good, some not so good–so forgive me if I haven’t kept up with responding to comments. I have been reading and enjoying them and I will do my best to respond over the next couple of days.
I have been playing with images of Mr. A, of course, as my therapy. What an interesting, arresting sort of masculine beauty he has. That face, that particular set of features and their amazing expressiveness, never bores me. In the newspaper biz, we used to refer to someone having a “good face.” That meant a face that captured your attention, its photographic image telling a story in itself; not necessarily a handsome, photogenic one, like Mr. A’s, but one that you wanted to look at again and again.
Sometimes the oldest subjects had the best “good faces”–so much character and earned beauty. Mr. A has a good face now; I think it will be even better in his golden years. Oh, and PS–if you haven’t visited Google’s home page today, please stop by. In honor of the birthday of the man who invented the synthesizer, there’s a Moog for you to play. Such fun!