Woolf often conceives of life this way: as a gift that you’ve been given, which you must hold onto and treasure but never open. Opening it would dispel the atmosphere, ruin the radiance—and the radiance of life is what makes it worth living. It’s hard to say just what holding onto life without looking at it might mean; that’s one of the puzzles of her books. But it has something to do with preserving life’s mystery; with leaving certain things undescribed, unspecified, and unknown; with savoring certain emotions, such as curiosity, surprise, desire, and anticipation. It depends on an intensified sense of life’s preciousness and fragility, and on a Heisenberg-like notion that, when it comes to our most abstract and spiritual intuitions, looking too closely changes what we feel. It has to do, in other words, with a kind of inner privacy, by means of which you shield yourself not just from others’ prying eyes, but from your own. Call it an artist’s sense of privacy.
"I had a marvelous life- I always stuck to my dreams." Diana Vreeland, 1958. Photo by Richard Avedon
Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel by Lisa Immordino Vreeland
magical photo! photographer: Toni Frissell, taken in Cusco, Peru for Harper’s Bazaar in 1952.
Pauline de Rothschild, photo by Horst. there’s something phenomenal about this photo, I can’t quite put my finger on it.