||[Jul. 27th, 2004|12:48 pm]
Making a note. The faces of Valentino's children on the pages of Vanity Fair. How I've been lulled to believe I can know them, know something about them, share some commonality, by looking into their eyes.|
More and more lately, I look at people, at the ways they interact, at the ways they arrange themselves, and I think, ah, mammals.
Looking at that bank of suited men behind the podium last night, that telecast of the 1960 Democratic National Convention, and I think...they could be monkeys, or prairie dogs. Just another grouping of social animals.
Which merely means that I've placed the observation of people under a different rubric, equally false. Or, at least, equally lacking in essential "truth."