Painting these portraits of R.. Rembrandt book fell open on the series of pictures of Saskia – all that love lumped together. The wedding portrait.
And then, a flick of the thumb and Ganymede. the rape of. There is an embryo painting in there. A shadow in the womb. A dark passage across the ultrasound.
And Ganymede so terrified he pisses himself. The umbilical stream of urine.
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And what the wedding playlist didn’t include – “Scrambled Eggs”, a Lebanese band. Album, title – “Peace is overrated, war misunderstood”. The title – a nod to the great ambivalence of Beirut.
R.’s brother stays with us for the wedding. In the cottage, a replay of our time, 3 together in the apartment in Beirut during the war. Staying in, not doing much, playing scrabble in dressing gowns and underpants, laptops, TV. Or driving crazily to the mountains when the bombing got too risky, going to the beach whatever the bombing because it got boring and sad being in. Bathing and feeling sickly from the oil that had washed up from the power station the Israelis had taken out on the first night. Frantic mobile phone calls, Chinese whispers that the power station that our balcony overlooked was a definite target for that day’s raids. rushing back to find R.’s brother still in underpants and dressing gown, playing solitaire on the computer. And more of the same, the tolerance of three animals kenneled together. And a sadness, the three of us together, orphaned for a month. Lying in bed and counting the interior walls between you and the outside walls…and waking and finding the power station still there in the morning sunshine.
And this time , in the cottage, I was just reminded how well we knew each others silent presence.
War is misunderstood.
Surety about Ethiopia. I will take a studio there for the summer. The paper transports easily. The paper transports.