Today marks 30 years since my dear friend Elisabeth Lemoine passed away. Her story is complicated, and that of her death convoluted. In time I hope to write about both. Just as the late Australian artist Vali Myers had often urged me to, adding: “She is precisely my kind of people.” Elisabeth, you see, was a very talented painter as well as a beautiful and loving whore. She was also a devoted admirer of Vali’s work. Once, sitting on my lap and holding a big book of the artist’s prints, she patiently explained Vaii’s more complex paintings to me, pointing out many fine details that I’d not previously seen.
For now, however, I’d simply like to share Elisabeth with you by way of a poem I wrote for her only days after she left: Plastic Madonnas.
Thank you, EDDIE