Photography, History and Whatever Else Strikes my Fancy.
I just got back from seeing Moulin Rouge with Trish and I am inspired. I have, with no question, one foot firmly planted in the 19th century and a romantic notion of Bohemianism. I bought into it early, when I was 11 years old I saw the real Moulin Rouge. I had already bought the image whole-heartledly enough that I was horribly disappointed that it was no longer a nightclub. On that same trip I escaped from the tour (to my mother's horror) and took off on my own to see what the streets off the tourist path looked like.
So before she tries to embarrass me, I will preemptively embarrass myself: I cried when Satine died.
I also laughed inappropriately and loudly at one line: "Never fall in love with a woman that sells her body. It always ends badly!" Either you already know why or I won't tell you.
Oringinal post: http://mbarrick.livejournal.com/45646.html