There is a really interesting story about that photo...The photographer was Kevin Carter and he actually won a Pulitzer prize for the photo and became quite famous. Some time later he started telling his friends that he wished he had intervened. One of my favorite bands, the Manic Street Preachers wrote a song about him, it's totally depressing
"I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings & corpses & anger & pain . . . of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often police, of killer executioners . . . "
So the trip was. . . . interesting. I feel really bad because I was supposed to see friends and I flaked out and got really antisocial. On the other hand it was because I was enjoying having no interruptions, no day to day distractions, and sitting in the hotel writing and looking out the big windows at the city and the bay.
I am going to blame my being paranoid on the fact that I have been complaining A LOT the past few days. Im too fucking nice and I know it. I need to be bitchy more when its totally valid.
She leaves on Tuesday. I will be throwing a party.
