Size Matters

Every once in a while, as a meander around the globe, I come across something that stops me in my tracks.

A gorgeous building.

A beautiful child.

The wing fan of a colorful bird.

cue: rainbows and unicorns

More likely, it’s the shop window of a butcher hanging freshly cured Soppressata. (Seriously- you’ve got to try it. Slice thinly and pan fry. Your welcome).

Or, dog shit on my Manolo Blahnik’s.

Yesterday it was a teacup Pomeranian that had pierced ears- I kid you not.

But last week, in Chicago to visit with Princess Bryn, it was during a spin through the Waldorf Astoria lobby that I stopped talking mid-sentence, turned on my designer heels, and quietly advanced in the opposite direction.

To touch the head of a woman.

Made of sugar & salt.

I wondered what size shoe she wore or if she liked Italian dry sausage, or if she would have pierced her dog’s ears? 

Wax Sculptures
Cabeza de Mujer Series
(Head of Woman)
Javier Marin
Mexico City
She probably did what ever she wanted, ’cause she’s a Giant.

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