Sandy feet and several glasses (nay, bottles) later, and Memorial Day is already nothing but a memory; perhaps, more appropriately, a dream. Those sun-soaked days and wine-soaked nights glowed and flickered by the light of fire, and ended all too soon.
Fortified by a late Friday night dinner at Pace, the Duchess sequestered herself away in the Queen Mum's Malibu digs. Our buddy Dave Geffen graciously allowed us to crash his beach (see above), and overlooking the indignities of weekend travel on the PCH, tout a ete parfait.
A detour through Topanga Canyon didn't provide much respite. From hoi polloi to barbaroi. At least the languorousness of the passage gave time for a plundering of the Duchess's soul.
Louise Bourgeois died on Monday. MOCA exhibited a major survey of her autobiographical, female-oriented work in 2008 to 2009, and it was spectacular. (We'll see how Deitch can do.) Requiescat in pace, indeed.