A photograph of a pair of off-white Ralph Lauren trousers hanging in front of a window stands out to me.
A door balanced on two nineteenth-century marble capitals and covered with a kilim served as a table; near the window stood a pockmarked marble torso, also from the nineteenth century, which Picón bought at Sotheby's in En-gland.
As part of its service, Happy Host arranges professional photography, and the loft, a former hat factory with Eamesian kitchen stools and a fig tree by the window, stood ready for an appraising gaze.
In the window stood a neoclassical female nude headless, with one arm, and a suggestion of fabric covering her in front.
In the window stood a neoclassical female nude — headless, with one arm, and a suggestion of fabric covering her in front.
By the window stood a pot with three cacti: two short, one long, in the shape of a penis and testicles, a gift from his friend the actor Vincent Lacoste, the star of "Les Beaux Gosses".
Inside, next to the window stood a workbench holding some of the simple tools of his momentous study: tweezers, quills, brushes, and sealing wax.
We took our glasses of Mâcon outside until the family eating at a small counter facing the window stood up to leave.
Yesterday we passed their shop and lo, in center window stood some silver.
Out my window stood our rusting metal swing set, dwarf-size and abandoned.
On the inside lane, less than a yard outside your window, stands a wall of treeless rock that climbs upward in a nearly perpendicular line.
