|Holly enjoyed her reality... as do we.|
Running across an article in the New York Times from some time ago about character Holly Golightly's iconic townhouse on the Upper East Side being sold - I realized - in a New York minute - just how important the blur, or lack thereof, becomes when mixing our past fictions with current realities.
To this day, the stretch of block on East 71st where fictional Holly shared a studio apartment with her kitty still attracts a steady sashay of non-fictional admirers, a collection of souls hanging onto the memories of Moon River just a bit longer than putting Breakfast at Tiffany's into their DVD player once again would allow.
One of the most beloved films of all cinematic history - in no small part due to Audry Hepburn's incomparable skill in capturing the aching humanity of ambition, loneliness, illusion, happiness, desire, introspection, and, ultimately, the great undying hope of Truman Capote's protagonist - there seems to be a little bit of Holly Golightly in all of us.
Perhaps that explains the timeless value of Holly, even five decades later.
|Holly arrived... as do we.|
This seems to be what distinguishes domestic service and, if we dare - heart - from a corporate career life... that of being entrusted to discreetly serve, operate, and succeed, all within proximity to the emotional landscape of those we are honored to serve. The heart.
|Holly found heart... as do we.|
Service heart, Moon River, and Holly. We're still with you there! Your townhouse may be sold, but your memories never will be.
We're crossing you in style, some day.