my love where shall we make love

a collection of things maria cosway said about angelica schuyler to thomas jefferson


“Have you seen yet the lovely Mrs. Church? You Must have seen her by this time: what do you think of her? She Colls’ me her Sister. I coll’ her My dearest Sister. If I did not love her so Much I should fear her rivalship, but no I give you free permission to love her with all your heart, and I shall feel happy if I think you keep me in a little corner of it, when you admit her even to reing Queen.” (emphasis mine)


“Our friend Mr: de la Luzerne is here, Mrs. Church, we should go to see Many beautifull villas, enjoy all the best England can afford and make the rest up with our own Society.”

“Where do you think I am at present? and with whom? How Much we wish for you and think of you and speak of you, it is the amiable Mrs: Church, you know her, that is enough, and you are Capable of feeling the value of this lovely woman.”

“Mrs. Church has told me to say many things to you; I reccomand My self to be admitted to half she deserves of affection from you, t’will be a good share but never so much as I have for you—adiu.”


“you shall share my envy between Mrs: Church and you, for I envy both excessively for the reciprocal pleasure you will have in one anothers Company; and your return when is it to be?”


My Angelica has been the greatest joy on my return. She has flatterd me much by telling me my name was mentiond in most of the letters which come from America.”

“Now this will Come accompanied by One from the Most charming of woman, My Angelica, I love her so much that I think and am persuaded she must be beloved by every One who know her, therefore give value to every thing which Comes from her Or she Notices with her regard. I will think she has Some attachment for me and I value it much. My great fear is that soon I shall loos her, I even thought I should not find her in England, but have been fortunate to meet this pleasure On my arrival, and certainly she was a great consolation to me. “


You will soon have the pleasure of seeing the Charming Anjelica. I loose her with Much regret she is the woman I love Most, and feel Most happy with in this Country.”

I’m not saying she was gay. but.

A Spoof Fanfic

“Bwhahahaha, I am so evil!” declared Lord/Ser/Prince/King Badman as he menaced Sansa in a sexualized manner.

“Oh, my life is so terrible and I am so weak and helpless,” sobbed Sansa.  “If only someone would come and save me and lead me to a life of self-actualized socially-integrated happiness!”

Suddenly Lord Woobbie-Mann leaped out from the shadows and dispatches Badman with a thrust of his mighty sword.  "Behold sweet lady, it is I, whom you shall now be required to marry for non-specific plot reasons!  We shall now go back to my castle where I am forced by circumstances to immediately consummate our union.  Although I personally find such an idea distasteful because I respect your personal integrity and deeply love you despite the fact that we have just met, I will be compelled to make love to you in a sweet yet manly and inexhaustible way that erases all trauma you have suffered from years of sexual emotional and physical abuse.”

Sansa batted her eyes.  “Even though I have been abused and betrayed by everyone I have known for years, and I have no reason to believe you are any different, I immediately sense that I can trust you.”

“That is true,” declared Lord Woobi-Mann.  “Although I am based on a canon character with many flaws and a complex plot arc, since meeting you I have no goals or ambitions outside meeting your needs.  Let me now whisk you away to Castle Woobie-Mann where your dreams will come true.”

“That consummation of our plot-required union was wonderful,” exclaimed Sansa the next morning after her tenth orgasm.  “You were so sensitive and understanding, and never suffered from premature ejaculation or difficulty sustaining an orgasm.”

“Please, sleep in,” Lord Woobie-Mann said.  “You can expect to become pregnant immediately, as the Woobie-Mann men are extremely fertile.  In fact, you are probably pregnant already, with twins.  I can tell from the way your breasts look particularly luscious.  I shall now depart to sit in a corner until there is another opportunity to meet your needs.”

He vanished in a puff of smoke.

There was a knock on the door.  “Hello, it is I, your new servant.  Please call me Fawn,” said the young woman, who was much less good looking than Sansa.  “I have waited all my life to serve the wife of Lord Woobie-Mann, and I am now utterly loyal to you.  May I please sleep in a dog-bed on your floor?”

“You know that I don’t particularly care about you and have no intention of thinking about you or doing anything nice for you, right?” Sansa asked.

“Oh yes,”said Fawn.  “Our relationship is completely one-sided.  I prefer it that way.  And I am, of course, utterly trustworthy.”

“Yes, I can sense that,” said Sansa.

Lord Wobbie-Mann appeared in a puff of smoke.  “Please, accept this beautiful dress, and these large jewels.”  He disappeared again.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” Lord Woobie-Mann said when Sansa was dressed.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” said Sansa, blinking her eyes and tossing her hair about.  “Although I am a celebrated beauty, I have no vanity about my looks.”

“Let us go for a leisurely walk so that I may show you my palatial castle. Even though you only arrived here yesterday and know nothing of my household, people, or culture, and you are only sixteen years old, I am going to give you vague and non-time consuming responsibilities.  I am a progressive forward looking man who respects your abilities despite your gender and am committed to a discrimination-free and non-oppressive relationship with you.”

“I’ve been working thirty days straight,” said Fawn.  “May I have an hour off to visit my dying mother?”

“Get back to work, peasant,” said Lord Woobie-Man.

“This doesn’t bother me at all,” said Sansa.  “Have I mentioned that I am a very compassionate person?”

Lord Woobie-Mann introduced Sansa to his sister Newbestfriend, who was less good looking than Sansa and not as important.  She was busy preparing a large ball to welcome Sansa to the castle.  

“Oh, I love you so much,” she told Sansa.  “You are so wonderful.  I could never accomplish everything you have done in the course of this fic.”

“Well,” said Sansa.  “Having ten orgasms in a night is pretty hard work.  And have I mentioned that I was menaced in a sexualized manner by Lord/Ser/Prince/King Badman?”

“You are the strongest person I have ever met,” said Newbestfriend.  “I’m arranging to invite lots of people who have insulted you to the ball so that you can humiliate them with your new power as Lady Woobie-Mann.”

“I’m very forgiving, and I wouldn’t enjoy that at all,” said Sansa.   “Here is a list of people to invite.”

“Now that I have finished all the hard work of arranging your ball, I need to go and find myself a dress for the ball that is not as nice as yours.”  She went away.

Suddenly, one of Lord Woobie-Mann’s knight leapt out from behind a bush.  He had a large black moustache.  “Now I shall have my way with you!” he declared, leering at Sansa.  “Bwahahahah.”

“Oh no,” cried Sansa.  “Who shall save me?”

Lord Woobie-Mann appeared in a puff of smoke.  “Look how awesome I am in comparison!” he said, running his hand through his long wavy hair.  He beheaded the knight.

“I may have an orgasm,” said Sansa.

“I’ll take care of that,” said Lord Woobie-Mann, as he handed Sansa a puppy.   “Thank you for honoring me with the privilege of you presence in my life, and allowing me to solve all your problems for you.  All hail Lady Sansa Woobie-Mann, the most accomplished, wonderful, beautiful, special person in the history of time.”

“Sweet, said Sansa.


The work of Niki De Saint Phalle comes alive in “Loveletter,” a new single by pop singer Soko inspired by the late Franco-American artist. Just as Soko’s romantic lament takes form in the words of Saint Phalle, so does artist, curator and filmmaker Aaron Rose animate the artist’s drawings from her 1971 artist book “My Love, Where Shall We Make Love?