I love the discomfort of Kodachrome colliding with 20th century communards. It's not pretty, but it's beautiful. This is the chapter that no one has written. It's not the romantic phase of the 1920s, or the maudlin extinct species tale of today; it's the 'during.' Falling apart. I just spent 8 hours rereading all my notes and stabs. Stomach ache.
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