I don't particularly remember saying goodbye to Tim. Once he'd pried Moynihan out of the editor's corner office, he had no reason to linger. Our lives would go on, we'd never share another word, let alone an adventure.
All I'm asking, New Yorkers, is that you either honestly document the city, including the trash bags that get buried for months under the snow when the blizzard hits, or quit clogging up my feed with propaganda.
The place, ablaze with lights and crowds, just begs to be turned into an art arena. It's the exact opposite of a serene gallery or museum space. And it absolutely requires a display that reveals this dilemma. How to grab and hold a viewer's attention amid all that hustle?
How did she know that song was Richard and Elizabeth's personal love song? I went into shock. It was from the film The Sandpiper the film where I met Elizabeth, met my husband Ron Berkeley. It was the film where it all started for me in Paris in 1964.