entry point.October 20, 2008 at 6:36 pm | Posted in writing | 11 Comments
Tags: three card, writing
Unlike Voltaire and his practised mannerisms and De Sade who had the protection of real historical Lordly rights, unlike Genet learned in the sewerisms of Marseille, unlike these great men I have only myself to offer,
he says, tugging at my sleeve. I am sweating from the heat of the day having stepped off the plane only moments before. His name is Ari, of course and he became my constant companion though I never could tell quite how. He spoke some strange pattering language but had learned to quote great books from memory. Often I felt he had no idea of their meaning but found music in the tones through which he could express an understanding so we found Saudade in less than three hours.
She was standing at the window of the penthouse apartment in the Tokyo Montana Hotel, naked and the only sound is the whirr of the cameras and she moves with a slow momentum. “Cut. Lovely, dear,” says Sir Ian, “There’s no hurry.” And turns to me. “Welcome my friend. Are you ready?”