The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Home Is Where The Heart Is #8


Joan Crawford's Living Room (California; 1949)

8 comments :

Robert Fiore said...

I'm psychic; by this time tomorrow this space will be filled with references to "Mommie Dearest."

estiv said...

A sort of kitsch Gesamtkunstwerk (at least visually--no music of course), since the dog, dress, hairstyle, and pose are just as much a part of the overall image as the furniture, carpet, fireplace, knickknacks, etc.

Maureen said...

Yeah, okay, I'll take the bait, is that a wire hanger necklace?

Laura Brown said...

I don't see how you could sit comfortably on that sofa.

Christopher said...

oh I married Joan!What a girl what a whirl what a wife..

Tommy O'C said...

Is that a wire hanger under the sofa?

normadesmond said...

everything had to be perfect...and it was.

Christopher said...

...don't hatchet..that dog..my friend..pass it over to me..