7.22

I have seen people so beautiful that they take my breath away. They deserve to have their whole selves hung in a museum where the wrinkles around their eyes and the long stretch of their fingers and the waft of their hair can be preserved in oil paint or pastel or watercolor or silver in emulsion forever, until tomorrow, when they are a masterpiece again.
I want these artworks, but I cannot myself make such things. The world is far too cruel for that.