With decaying dry tendrils twisting around this lightless orb, we could very well be seated on the back porch of Grey Gardens in a slow creeping infestation of deprivation. While a coterie of cats crouch close by in darkened corners, Little Edie pours glasses of port and serves crackers on chipped china. "Don’t you love the overgrown Louisiana Bayou look?” she might say. And you might think, "It's just about time to leave. Now."

10.26.20