A nasty shock

reading Deborah Solomon's interview with Carlos Fuentes in the Times Magazine: Natasha Fuentes is dead, she died last summer. I can't say I knew her well enough to think of her as a friend exactly, she was beautiful & elusive in a way that made her hard to pin down, but she was the kind of person it was easy to love (and also the kind of person to whom love hardly mattered, she was so bent on extinguishing herself). I remember her well, though, from hanging out in Cambridge and New York in the winter of 1991-92 and during the year or so following. It is a melodramatic expression, I don't know what else to say, but I hope she rests in peace.