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When this was selection was originally written, I had just become an aunt (welcoming to the world, little
Olivia Rose), my mom had turned sixty, and I hit thirty-five. Much
to celebrate in Gemini-land, wouldn't you agree? With such good
cheer in the air it seemed appropriate to have a little birthday
party. Good hostess that I am, I made sure to dim the lights properly
to ensure a fabulous time for all of my guests. I do hate
overhead lights, so this was a natural for me!
Proper
lighting is essential to a pleasant atmosphere, and by proper
I mean light that flatters, that cheers without dazzling, that
is intimate without inviting eyestrain. Too many of our modern
methods of lighting are seemingly designed with a view to annihilating
the human race. We will only be perpetuated, after all, so long
as men are attracted to women and vice versa, but how there can
be any hope for mutual attraction between the ghoulish faces that
stand revealed by contemporary idea to do away with any and all
pleasant illusion. This is accomplished in one of two ways: either
the lights are cunningly concealed somewhere in the vicinity of
the ceiling, casting a pale, indirect, ghastly green glow on the
room and its occupants, or, crueler still, there is the relentlessly
direct type ~ the spotlight that hangs immediately above your
head, opaquely shaded to allow its full white glare to do its
worst on you, for all the world like those naked bulbs the police
~ the movie police, anyway ~ shine in the face of a suspect in
the hope of breaking his spirit. They know what they're doing.
It's enough to break the most upright spirit. But direct or indirect,
the result is the same. Make-up might as well not be used. Every
line and pore and hollow is mercilessly disclosed and magnified,
on young as on old.
Source: How To Do It, or The Lively Art of Entertaining
~ pp. 213-14 ~
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