In the hustle and bustle of college, people are determined to find their love. I've decided on exactly what I need. I'm Georgia O'Keeffe. I'm the artist who wants to paint the simplistic beauty of nature on a ranch in New Mexico surrounded by red rocks and desert. Yet I'm the same Georgia O'Keeffe who wants to live in the first residential skyscraper in Manhattan on the brink of change in 1924. I'm the lost soul with a split personality who paints the sky encompassed by rocks and by buildings.
And who do I need alongside me? I need Alfred Stieglitz. I need the man who will look past the stubborn hard heart and appreciate the work I attempt to achieve, while making his own legacy in his own part of the circle we both share. I need the photographer to capture the realism of my idealism. I need the man who would encourage me just as much as I could inspire him.
But who has time to search for such a fella when there's work to be done and art to be made?