Word: basketfuls
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...most original sculptor in history. Not content with carving and modeling, Picasso sculpts by a third method: combining. He will make a bull's head out of a bicycle seat, with handle bars for horns, or a pregnant goat from a palm branch (for the back), a wicker basket (for the belly) and flowerpot udders, or a monstrous monkey, using a toy automobile for a head, a beach ball for a body. Cast in bronze, the results are more invigorating than inspiring, but they can help anyone to see better into the physical world...
...contrast, the Riviera female is in the throes of full, Amazonian development. Her brightly painted toes flicker through the nimble measures of the Charleston; her wrists grow strong beneath the weight of jangling bracelets; her long thighs are shaped to glued-on toreador slacks. She carries blithely a large basket laden with spare sets of false eyelashes, spare bandannas, waterproof mascara, lipstick brushes, eyelid pencils, bobby pins, suntan oils, combs, tweezers, compacts, cigarettes, stray hairs left by the cat. Atop her head is a brimmed straw-hat pulled over a voile scarf tied babushka-style, and she turns...
...empty. The wives make a big point of exchanging the love letters to be sure each has the right one, when both letters are identical. Ford's "The clock gives me my cue" is accompanied by strokes on a cow-bell. When Falstaff is smuggled out in the laundry basket, the wives have to sidle along together to hide Falstaff's enormous hat from the jealous eyes of Ford. After Falstaff has drunk some sack, he is still conveniently soaking his legs in a tub of hot water, so that he gets an extra laugh by gesturing...
...Bach badgered officials into buying extra film, gave his budding photographers more than most daily newspapers allow their regulars. He ceaselessly sent his boys to football and basketball games to get realistic pictures (blur was just fine) and warned: "Don't bring back any pictures of the basket...
...offscreen as on. The core of her life, she insists, is her family, her Japan-based husband Steve Parker and her two-year-old daughter Stephanie. Friends still remember with a kind of awed surprise the evening she brought Steffie to a party, stuck the child in a wicker basket and put her in a closet to sleep. Later the party moved off in search of a progressive jazz pianist who was never found. Far later it wound up at a nightspot called the Crescendo. Steffie was still in the closet, sleeping peacefully...