obsessed with the beauty of Anaiis Nin today, so graceful inside & out
Anaïs Nin in Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome (1954, Kenneth Anger)
A masquerade party for which guests were encouraged to “Come as your madness,” inspired one of the guests—avant-garde filmmaker Kenneth Anger—to create Inauguration of the Pleasuredome (now considered a key work in experimental film) in which famed diarist Nin and other notable figures appeared. One of the most iconic scenes is an abstraction of the costume Nin wore at the party, which she describes below.
I wore a skin-colored leotard, leopard-fur earrings glued to my breasts, and a leopard-fur belt around my waist. Gil Henderson painted on my bare back a vivid jungle scene. I wore eyelashes two inches long. My hair was dusted with gold powder. My head was inside of a birdcage. From within the cage, through the open gate, I pulled out an endless roll of paper on which I had written lines from my books. The ticker tape of the unconscious. I unwound this and handed everyone a strip with a message. (Diary 5 133) (Read more and see the original costume.)
pack, hot glue Buffy box set & give back to Melissa, mail drawings, return movies to Odd Obsession, drive to Wisconsin to get New Galarus, finish reading book, go to coin star, donate old clothes, pick up records, get car cleaned in/out at that place in PIlsen, go dancing
gets me every time
My great grandparents came over from Italy to New York and lived in the Village. They were bakers and opened up a pastry shop with their cousins, called “Gatti-Ruggeri Pastries and Cakes”. It actually became pretty renowned in the city, and Eleanor Roosevelt would always come in with her dog, Fala. They never had a ton of money, but business was good.
My grandpa worked for his parents in the shop and was also going to Columbia at the time, studying French and Italian. One day he gets this invite to dinner from the new senator from Arkansas, Senator Fulbright. He tells him about his brand new fellowship program where students could study overseas, and that my grandpa had been selected to go to Italy.
My grandpa thanks him, goes home and is mulling over the idea. The next day he goes to work at the shop, and a long time, regular customer comes in.
He says, “Hello, Mario. How are you?”
And my grandpa goes on to tell him about having dinner with Fulbright, and how he was nervous at the idea of leaving New York, but that it was a big opportunity for him. And that he wasn’t sure if he should do it or not.
The customer just sort of looked at my grandpa, quiet for a second. And then he said very seriously, very sincerely,
"Oh, but, Mario. You make such beautiful cakes."