“Dark eyes flutter under the finest silk net as she enters the stage. Quivering movements, caught on the tight-rope between ballerina and showgirl, she knew how capture attention. Unmistakable beauty, she danced to the violin as if it were her only lover. Sadness and beauty poured out in this waltz between her and the instrument. She danced through the composition as if she was completely alone. All the time, knowing that the eyes of the Oligarch were focused on her every movement. She danced her swan’s dance. She knew that beauty such as hers would always be captured by those in power. But she could have this last dance for her and her alone.”
“THE SHOWGIRL AND THE OLIGARCH” is available as an NFT on Super Rare – HERE
“L.A. sunset glows against the old muscle car. The L.A. Girls rule this part of town with their disintegrating beauty, always balanced delicately on the edge. Neon stiletto teases the beer can on the ground which in this hazy glow sparkles like diamonds. They are owned by no-one and their freedom is carried firmly in their beatnik sneers and dark red lips. They learnt a long time ago to trust no-one and to love only this wild urban landscape.”
They continued to wear their masks long after the quarantine restrictions had been removed. The fear lingered long after the virus had gone. April had borrowed her Granny’s antique plague mask months ago and now wore it even to pop to the shops.
Sometimes they were followed. Beige men with gas masks on were on the streets still, a government hangover from the quarantine days.
They were not sure when it would ever feel safe again. There was a salutary comfort in the masks, shielding them, hiding them from prying eyes. They couldn’t remember a time when they didn’t wear them…
“Come to Glass Beach”, she whispered. “Come to see the colours created by the God of the Sea. Years of sculpting away the rubbish left by man, to create something of infinite beauty”. She stared past me, ancient headdress intact.
“Glass baubles float all around…man’s discarded rubbish is Poseidon’s treasure…” her words were pacifying but said with infinite sadness.
“This was my favourite beach for centuries – many came to worship me here. It was a holy place. Then men came and left rubbish all over my precious and scared beach. I was so sad. I blew away all the rubbish into tiny fragments, a long long time ago”, she looked down, “all that was left was broken glass. I begged my husband to sculpt them into something of beauty. To reverse the destruction wrought on my sacred beach. He would only do it if he could keep me here forever. To be the guardian of this beach. To be a prisoner here. I agreed to the pact.” she turned to me, tears glistening, “worship my Glass Beach, please?”
Artwork tokenized on the blockchain on KNOWN ORIGIN, Anna Louise Simpson, 2020
“There was a blue shade to West Hollywood this evening. Even flash of crimson red could not distract her. Cars flashed past on the Drive, as bright sunshine attempted to include her. This was not really her part of town and no-one really noticed her. Everyone looked through her as if she was a ghost. A West Hollywood Girl, she thought wrly. There was an atmosphere of utter disintegration in Hollywood this evening that no-one could touch but she felt it in the blue pigmentation of the West Hollywood sky.”