I've been a painter-contructor-eventer since I was old enough to resent my abusive parents and escape them by either slipping into schizophrenic hallucinations or making up things My last most succesful creation was a begger made from wire and newspaper and clothed in meters and meters of black poly that concealed her face and hands and that blew in the wind and gave her some style, which was important because I put her on Le Pont des Arts in Paris and gave her a begging gowl and a sign that said"I am a work of Art. Please HELP ME."
People did help her and she earned about six bucks an hour.
I've been too distracted by guys and rich husbands to get single minded about a career in the arts until now, when I am out of rich husbands, and barely making enough money to feed my five dogs and my twenty stray cats who eat in the outdoor utility room, on the ironing board.
I don't think I ever want to live in Los Estupidos Unidos again but I miss the snow and the ice and the drama of storms. I am alarmingly thin and I have stringy hair and very pale little green eyes and horrid sneer lines. I barely have a torso. I look l like some sort of alien with very long thin arms and legs.
bisou, elena