In Bernard Shaw’s play, The Applecart, the mistress of the fictional King who is the main character complains about his ministers saying that they have to spend their time doing because if not they don’t exist. As for her, she is a creature outside the scope of their paltry imaginations and she doesn’t have to do because she simply is.
Ever since both reading and seeing the play some few years ago I have been fascinated by the concept of simply being, but regret that as for most of us, it is something that is simply beyond me. Regrettably I have to spend my time doing to somehow justify my existence to both myself and to other people.
The gorgeous creature pictured here is someone who simply by being raises the game of our imaginations, and would be fit company for any of us in the Ivory Tower of our fantasies.
Why can’t I be like her?
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