"....Jean was exotic the way a work of art is. Sometimes it's hard to understand, so we take our own version of understanding with us, the shallow way it makes us feel, which does her no justice, and act as if we know her. She was misunderstood, despised, and yet, so perplexingly unbothered by any of it, living in her own world of meaningless existence and erratic decisions, which, to us, ordinary people, seem stupid and rash but to her, mean only one thing: to live."