me, i'm not a mother. i'm one of those sensations.

the way gena rowlands' smirked, the way she smoked, the curls of her hair. it's actually very fashionable to outrun the mobs in heels and have a crisis head-to-toe in designer ungaro (one of my fabs! and truly, you are seeing 80s silk and silhouette on display here!! i love the pink top & jacket but that polka dot dress at the end with the yellow collar is my absolute fave). it's even more chic to kill them all the same as you dodge your ways around new york, letting the hustle and the bustle of the city shield you; as you take on responsibility for a kid that you profess to not even like, yet find yourself protect at the same times. gloria is rowlands' film through and through, the camera lingers on every minute expression, finding beauty as her face disappears behind cloud of smokes or as the sun cast its light on her hair at the back of a cab, in her profile as she sweeps john adames' phil up at the cemetary.

too bad big fella was left behind :(. pouring one out for orange cats everywhere.

(this watch is for you, queen gena rowlands)