On Monday, I had Fellini model some recycled bracelets I had just received. You can see that here:
He was such a willing model, that I thought I’d step it up a bit. I have some beautiful bead necklaces, made my a women’s collective in Guatemala, and they’ve sort of languished for lack of a good model, or at least a good photograph, so Fellini, the dog, was pressed into service again. The results are below:
Obviously, William Wegman has nothing to worry about. I do love the luxe background of crushed velvet. (A tip from an itinerant retailer: crushed velvet doesn’t wrinkle, so have it around to use as a table cover. But, often I think of eshewing tables, and tents, and covers all together and regressing into my family’s Eastern European immigrant past and getting a pushcart.)
About Fellini, the dog: He’s ten. But doesn’t look (or act) a day past about four. He was found in Patterson Park in Baltimore, where we hang every day. He does back flips. This is the truth.
About Fellini, the director: Well, I really can’t add anything new about the master, but I did watch 8 1/2 for the first time in decades the other night, and can tell you that if it’s been decades since you’ve seen it, or if you’ve never *gasp* viewed this film, you owe it to yourself. It also makes a lot more sense watching this in your 40s than in your 20s. Oh, and there’s Marcello Mastroianni. Enough said.