Like a whirling dervish, spinning, spinning, spinning in place, harnessing all the magic it can muster.
She was glued to this little private theatre, the big silver screen in her mind's eye, projecting vague images of the greatest potential performance of her career, just begging to materialize. She envisioned a canvas, awash with color in motion. Seductively, hazy figures, taunting... with split-second peeks of clarity fading back into the cosmic soup. The frustrating burlesque of this show is its tease with fruition. While the vision swirled with color, doubts unfurled in her head; she entertained them and the picture was clouded. She had the mean reds before, those crippling bouts of fear and loathing strangled past projects before they were conceived.
She self-soothed, telling herself, "At least, if no one else would see it, I had witnessed the spectacle."
Photos via Life Magazine, 1957, by photographer Gjon Mili