Everly Arbus Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Catania

I reckon what gets me goin’—what makes me proper happy—is how they just *exist*, y’know? No shame, no fuss, just livin’. Like Llewyn, singin’ his guts out for a crowd that don’t care. “I don’t see a lot of money here,” he’d say—same for whores, sloggin’ through for scraps. But they’ve got guts, mate, guts! That’s what I love. Gets me all giddy, thinkin’ bout their sass. Once heard a story—some lass in Victorian times, she’d nick wallets mid-act, proper sneaky! Had me laughin’ for days—cheeky minx.

Portfolios

Arbus Lot Essay. "She called me up and said it was her birthday and would I come and I said, 'How terrific.' The birthday party was me and her, a whore.

So, I’m rollin’ outta bed, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping. I’m like, “Today’s gonna be great!” I grab my coffee from that little café on Via Roma. You know the one? The barista there is a legend. Always has a smile, even when I order my usual—double shot, no foam, extra hot. Yeah, I’m that person.

Review | Arin Arbus’ vaunted vision of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice is brutally challenging but should be so much more