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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

Makeup, Hawksley and a new lover.

I'm watching a live version of Paper Shoes by Hawksley Workman on Youtube. I'm not normally a Youtube kind of girl but I make exceptions for all things Hawksley. Or makeup related.

But here's the link for Paper Shoes. don't you get lazy on me, sweet honey baby...
He talks about playing Risk instead of making love. Hilarious. Great showman, for sure.

Friends over to make dinner yesterday. Lots of Pinot Noir and red sauce (made from scratch, another bonus of hanging around a guy from Italy--he has the ability to cook real food) and good conversation. Getting more comfortable with having someone around. Did I mention the reading of Dante's Inferno in the original Italian? *grin*. Right.

Alessandro's hands. A hands photo to add to my collection.
alessandro's hands

A quick shot while he's pretending to sleep.

power. balance. power.
I'm always fascinated with the angles and lines of a new face. Something for me to look at, something new to touch and be touched by. It's interesting. I horde my alone time, and it's ok that way. I dig it. I smear yellow eye shadow over my lids and the mascara is so sharp and black that it's almost enough to cut like a blade. I dig it.

I would have taken more photos but my battery charger is totally missing in action. I've no idea where I put it, which is too bad because there seem to be so many photo ops lately. When I think to look for it, my attention is usually then drawn elsewhere. I will have to write it on a pink Post-it and stick it to the mirror in order to refocus my attention on what's important.

Document, document, document.

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