[72] Wise and dread spirits
It’s just grandfather and I, with an hour of sunlight left by the time he closes his shop, and I’ve talked him into posing his hand for me while we wait for Emma to return from Charlotte’s inner palace. He’s at his kitchen table, with…
[71] Time as the crushing new dimension
When I tell him that Charlotte has found me, he smiles: ‘Good old Charlotte ...’ How do we learn to love? By now I know how he did. We’re not jealous of each other about anything (he won’t touch another woman – I know because I’m…
[70] To the Kimmerian lands
The same afternoon she’s going to Charlotte’s for luncheon, I walk to the Outer Orbit. How can one walk safely in this city? To the always next place? By walking with eyes open to the sun within you. Capitalism is a shadow over the world…
[69] If the death wish ever dies
After we moved into grandfather’s stable loft, for twelve days I couldn’t bear for her to be out of my sight. Then on day thirteen, I woke up beside her thinking, ‘There – that’s the longest I ever stayed with any woman.’ The first…
[68] Predicting ruins, fulfilling dreams
Any secrets Emma has had till now, they’re ones from before she met me, and she keeps those from everyone. Sometimes I trip over the mute signs when she doesn’t think I can see them. For example, she had a nightmare once, I can tell. I know…
[67] Where do we walk?
Paul needs to get out sometimes, not that I can ever put it to him that way. He must know it too, or he wouldn’t let me make us go out. Before Johnny’s Big Day, which is, before we moved into this apartment, when he was between series (I…
[66] No chambers of stone, no palace or dwelling
Grandfather’s room over the stable had two north windows, good for Paul. No heat, no water, but two north windows. Paul installed a brazier and punched a hole in the roof for a metal chimney for when it got really cold. We needed the city.…
[65] Simultaneous experience of consciousness and dreaming
Swig again. Then in heels and one red stocking and red lipstick, foot on our high bed, I bend over again and look under my shoulder. ‘I don’t mind,’ I tell him again. ‘Get me drunk first, all right.’
[64] You have lived
That drawing of Emma I made while we were waiting for Emil at the Griensteidl. I’d posted it on my way out, on their notice board by the business cards and theatre bills. I regretted that, because it was a specially good one, so I went back…
[63] Fright and horror might overcome
[63] Fright and horror might overcome
After we met Emil ... Sometimes we’re both too proud, okay, but we didn’t know that at the time. I can plead youth, a little, possibly – I wasn’t so young any more – but even so, it made me…
[62] The myths that comfort me
Johnny doesn’t need a big world yet. In the studio, I fold two painted blankets in the circus trunk and wrap his fist around a piece of chalk to colour his face, and Mister Frog is bobbing where he can watch, and it’s enough for the little…
[61] Hushing the room enclosed
Emma says, here, this is his table. We’re twenty minutes early, which gives us half an hour before Emil is expected. When she’s looking her best, she’s a whip. You can soften her all you want, with all the frills you can sew on – her…
[60] Evil wonder
Paul’s silence companions me. I’m out shopping or pushing Johnny’s pram down the quay, and I picture him working, or sitting there staring past his pipe and his three-fingered shooter in his parlour chair, or dandling Johnny in the air,…
[59] Beyond the reach of the senses
That first month, I’m always almost telling her, ‘Emma, there was a time ...’ But I never do. Better neither of us. Our first summer, she’s always asking me about day-to-day things, soaking them in, but about before we met, she has only…
[58] A seven-headed beast from the sea
One day, she may tell me how. The first night we spent together should have signalled me her nature – not the way she followed me into the forest without a word or look, not her first moment of swoon, or the firelight on her hair, or the way…
[57] Carious teeth that cannot spit
Art is a description without a place. I can handle a portrait easily enough, because the subject has to hold still, and I can sense what he would do if he moved, and that shows if I’ve painted him well. And I can handle an allegory, but that’s…
[56] History is in thrall to repetition
It’s happened once or twice a year since I met Paul – Emil approaches me wearing his deputation face some afternoon when Paul isn’t there and makes a prepared speech about how mommy wants me to get help for something. Which is how she…
[55] Not all our strange mother lost
That summer, Paul and I pull a bubble over ourselves, so that we can see out if we have to, but I don’t want to. We have a magnetic field in place, I can feel it by holding his hand, my life heightened by his touch. I don’t go back to Emilie’s…
[54] Blood and wounds that I saw now?
The next few months. I remember a lot, but it’s a ball of time. Emma can give you dates if you must. She has a head for dates that’s a magic trick. For anything with numbers. 1812, 1683, 1759, those ones are easy. But try 17 July 1907. No…
[53] O hear me, master of the silver bow
Her bedroom has stone walls, a ceiling lost in shadow, two high windows without curtains. A tall, well-stuffed bookcase and one soft day bed with a lamp. A huge bed. Everything is comfortable – it just doesn’t look that way.
‘Freddie…
[52] A dream sleep has fallen over the city
That’s the first thing I know about Paul that he doesn’t have to tell me – he has an older sister. When I wrap myself in her cape and step outside, she and her husband have galloped off. Five hundred metres down a path through woods bumpy…
[51] Weeps one moment and as quickly laughs
I don’t carry a watch. There’s usually a church close enough that I can count the bell. So that first sleep ends around twenty minutes before eight. I hear the hunting dogs coming, but let her sleep another ten minutes. When I hear the hooves…
[50] Words have made my eyes enebriate
I hadn’t planned this; her walk decided me. How she moved, how she didn’t stop when she could, how she shed her skin with the city, and how I could tell she’d never done that before and how she wanted to.
She’s watching me kindle…
[49] They eddy before the gate of the barons
After lunch, which doesn’t last long because Gus is a slave to his work though he never looks like he’s working, Paul asks me if I have the afternoon. That’s the only question he’ll ask all day. I tell him I do, though I don’t. Then…
[48] The fire must sting me first
I’d rather have the east wind. So would Paul. The east wind means sunlight for him, and then the west one moves in for a few days and the sky goes crash. A city like this, you can almost touch the sky on days like that, and it’s lead-coloured…