I rarely hold opinions more than a few hours. Finishing leaves me with despair. But I also make wild, rather intriguing collages that fascinate me by their separateness. Don’t remind me that I turned out wrong because I had a nanny who washed my wee-wee out with Q-tips and I wore hats and coats to match…. I feel best when alone with pocket money, quite thin, agile, and slightly viscious…. I’ve always believed in live high, die, and have a wonderful corpse.

In one of my sister’s tapes she claimed she’s talking to Henry Kissinger and he was coming on to her, trying to make a date. My sister Polaroided Tiger Morse’s funeral at Frank E. Campbell’s funeral home. I think that’s a bit much.

We never had separate identities, I was always Brigid Polk’s sister. But I gave Brigid her first poke… I have a dog, though. He is separate…. Toto… a Yorkshire Terrier who has been with me for eight years and wears eyeglasses. I dress him up. he makes you want to call me Dorothy. He has a tape recorder in his shoe and Mark Cross loafers. He wears coats and hats.

hearst baby richie berlin, as told to jean stein in edie: american girl