8:3) chris abraham 02-SEP-97 4:18

But here, Washington looks at herself in the mirror and doesn't want to be one-hair out of place; she doesn't want to stick out; she doesn't want to be snickered at by her friends. She doesn't know what she is missing, the freedom of showing off the downy gleaming blond hairs of the tummy, the ellipse of the navel; to show the movement and form of the breast; to let the length of the body move under sunshine, under rain, beneath the incessant tirade of base and guitar. Pressed and exposed; excited and rosy from the blood coursing in the veins, breaking near the surface of the cheek.