“Stevie Nicks surrounds herself with girls. Wherever she goes, she brings girls. “I can’t imagine you in a bathing suit,” someone says in an interview for Rolling Stone, when Stevie says she likes to play in the pool in her backyard. “Yeah, well, you never will,” Stevie says. “And there is never — ever — a man in the backyard. If there is, he is banished to the front of the house.” Men don’t get to look at Stevie Nicks unless Stevie Nicks wants men to look at Stevie Nicks.”
Wherever there is music, she is too, / in the soft blue of the sky, in Grecian verses, / in the mirror of water that flows from the fountain, / in the marble of time, in a sharpened sword, / in the serenity of an open terrace / that looks upon the gardens and the sunsets. / And behind all the myths and masks: her soul, which is always alone.
Jorge Luis Borges, tr. by Paul Weinfield, from “Susana Bombard,”
failed2be-chill 