Sophisticated Wildness

A friend sent me this image.  He said I should be in some of the pictures I make.  What is he suggesting?  Did I refer to him as a "friend"?  I, of course, wouldn't wear those hideous sandals.  Otherwise, though. . . .

The trouble is not with the way we think, but with the way we live.  I should say it is both.  For the most part, we are neither wild nor sophisticated.  We try living on some sliding scale in the middle of the two and we pay the price.  Our bodies and minds would be much better if we practiced a sophisticated wildness.  I'm not talking about the sort of prissy sophistication of conservative money which means nervous money.  I mean a sort of Paris Hilton crazy ass sophistication that has inherited all the rules in order to gently break them.  There is a wildness in that.

Paris and I would look perfectly natural like this, a beauty and the beast sort of loveliness.  Of course, it takes money.  Otherwise we become more like Crazy Jane in the Yeats poems (you'll find something here).  Remember, Yeats had monkey nuts implanted in his abdomen in an attempt to retain his virility and youth.

He was silly, though.  All you need is a camera and the crazy wisdom.  But for Paris, I'd have the operation, too.  But wait. . . it will never work out.  I just found this!  Paris isn't looking for Jove.  She's found some ugly young thing to keep her occupied.  Perhaps she has heard of the monkey ovaries operation.

I recant.