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What emerges from Breakfast at Tiffany’s is Audrey Hepburn. What emerges is very real person in the here and now and what she did that stands out and apart from the movie and shows us what she’s made of. From that it is that we are engaging with her spirit, her inner character that speaks volumes—more than even the formidable endurance of the classic movie—of which entertainment and “fame” have been the limits, not exactly transition in understanding, but now we are breaking free into something more real beyond the screen that is alive and powerful and moving. I think it is the thing of this moment to know what that is. Audrey actually had to work around it being a movie to accomplish a greater goal. The movie...

To see what happened in the novella Breakfast at Tiffany’s being plagiarism from prophetic, world-altering art and the transformation of this to the alive, effective dynamism of the movie that still ignites us with Audrey’s spirit, one has to see the movie in the light of what was known by the creators in that moment as they demonstrated it in the movie and the follow-up Paris When It Sizzles (1964), and why Truman Capote subsequently would say that Breakfast at Tiffany’s “made him want to throw up” (“'My mother was like a steel fist in a velvet glove': the real Audrey Hepburn” The Guardian 19 November 2020). We can look at the high humor of what was created making light of a dark, manipulative, self-centered situation where...

At this moment I’m right outside of fame, right outside the industry, the press, somewhat purposefully so. It’s been a lifetime of intensity of thought. It culminates in this moment with what we are all able to bring together. As a child I was all right with that intensity, the encapsulation in an odd isolation because I knew it had a purpose. I did the hard work, the hard thinking, the planning. For most those potentialities should come to fruition then in your twenties, when you’re ready to take on the world. My existence didn’t open up then in Beingness, creativity, and love. It stayed tightly encapsulated for further, deeper into teaching, writing, and literature, and after discovering that the...

I was at The Grove Farmer’s Market in Los Angeles last Wednesday seated at a covered colorful bistro table in the afternoon amidst all the bustle talking to John Mayer when the urgent news came up that Liam Payne had just fallen in Buenos Aires. It was John’s birthday. I had gone off on my cute, sleek 2010 black Vespa to explore Los Angeles on my own, (he can’t very well go with me without making the news and that is not what is wanted that way for a number of reasons—this isn’t trading on fame, this is lifting things to a whole new level), so I was out to feel it for myself, in Roman Holiday freedom—in the very wild traffic,...

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