Most of the time I am fairly sanguine about the great riches which have failed to come my way in life. With each passing year I am ever more aware of the gifts we receive which are beyond price.
But…
…then I discover something like this. This being a sale of photographic works to be mounted in Paris by Christie’s later this week, simply titled Photographies. Oh to at least try and outbid Elton John on prints by contemporary artists like Martin Parr, William Egglestone and Nan Goldin. To wonder idly which of my villas I should dedicate to the leading lights of 20th century photography, including Man Ray, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange, Robert Mapplethorpe and Horst P. Horst. To have friends over and airily direct their attention to a series of original still images from Carl Theodor Dreyer’s Vampyr by the director himself, and, oh yes, well spotted my friend that is an original Claude Cahun over the fireplace.
Damn.
Strange Flowers 
My inner voice frequently whispers “Elton John is mentally bidding on this right now…” when I look at modern photography catalogs. Quick, let’s write a popular song or twenty.
I’ll start! “Something something party people in the house something something which rhymes with house…”, rave middle 8 and a Korean rap…hey, this is writing itself!
Don’t forget the Auto-Tune!
Sigh…
I *know*.
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