Lauren Bacall. Gotham Hotel, New York. 1945.
Photographer: Nina Leen
Lauren Bacall c1945
So much in life seems to be compromise. Why can’t we have the best? Why can’t we be better than we are? Why can’t we enrich our lives with appreciaton of the arts, with books? Why can’t that all be at least as important as making money, having a bigger house, a newer car? Why do we have to be submerged in commercialism? Why is tearing down a sign of progress instead of preserving? And there are many more whys. The big why to me in America is why don’t we take the time to see what is around us—the earth, the sea, the sky? Are people so busy chasing the hours, hurrying them along so they can get to that first martini? I myself have been guilty of losing time—wasting it. However, the last few years I have become too aware of the passing of time—the losing of it. (Lauren Bacall, By Myself and Then Some)
♥ ♥ ♥
(Nina Leen. 1945)