wild stone fox 1979

by Rachel Lynch in


gone to new york city. painting my lips blood red and running into Soho full speed ahead. I'm playing rock and roll so loud in my hotel room, feels like Paul Banks is really here. Subatomic particles and chain smoking, my spirit has once again been let off the leash and I'm looking for trouble.

Savage milk, strong bones, I've been spending all day shooting and thinking. Then again, sometimes modeling, or being in front of the camera for me is about losing thought, losing place in this universe, the dream before the flood.

There fever does not just pass or blow out like an extinguishable heat. This desire for more and more life, like chain smoking, like religion inside me always returning tomorrow. Soho has welcomed me with open arms.