coming soon : Experiencing the Radical Body

Please take a look at our crowdfunding campaign & help us send the “Experiencing The Radical Body” issue to the printer! Please note that there is NO private or public funding for cultural journals in Greece. That’s why your support is critical and appreciated!

As the poet, professor and critic, Chris Nealon, said: “A GLIMPSE OF gives a great picture of developments in writing and visual art, from the perspective of one of the many ongoing austerity crises around the world.”

A) GLIMPSE) OF) took part in the second edition of the Printing Plant Art Book Fair in Amsterdam (2019), and in the first edition of the Athens Art Book Fair (2019).

The “Experiencing The Radical Body” is edited by Dimitra Ioannou and Rebecca Wilcox. It features new

• poetry by Vahni Capildeo, Sasha Dugdale, Katie Ebbitt, Anna Gurton-Wachter, Lotte L.S., Mira Mattar, So Mayer, Diana Manesi, Amy McCauley, Gizem Okulu, Eleanor Perry, Vassiliea Franck-Lee Alli-Tis Stylianidou, Rebecca Wilcox, yarrow yes woods

• prose by Stephanie Young
• artworks by Caroline May, and Nana Sachini
• a Narrative in Progress by Eva Moreda

• columns by Louisa Doloksa, Kyriaki Goni, and Dimitra Ioannou
and more!

You may also preorder the issue on our site:


Corinne A. Schneider

After Spider Dance

La Tarantella is a southern Italian ecstatic folk dance, traditionally performed by lower class women, midwives, eccentrics and others at the margins. Groups of couples now perform it at weddings.

I started seeing scratches under women’s eyes
          Some of the women
          tired from too much seeing
          scratches & their absence of inner thigh
Spider curled in a white rose
Animal souls          cut flowers          a raindrop
a buzzing          Why don’t you
just break my neck already?

Tiger lily          How many calories?    
Maybe twenty
gilding the lily          Brushing my hair is
a mutilation       Well, of course you engender
sexual obsession in others,
your many lovers
       That’s why you
could never cohabitate, you’d run out
of little outfits

Mosquitos finally come a callin’ this summer  
Baby bok choy bolting
          up the center          Fuck those white sheets          police helicopter
          star of the sea
You can get into a rhythm
Eyes on everything
Season of lightness
Taking your dreams away

After Spider Dance, II

Are you
a weaver like me?
Maybe you could heal me       Feed me nuts & berries
lichen tincture
essential medicine
so my bones grow  
I can tie
my bones together       I know how
to mate fully without bearing children
copious and empty
Smile at me at la clinica
I’m drunk enough now
to tell you about Rochelle
my across-the-street 2nd grade neighbor
whose mother was always away
Rochelle taught me how to masturbate
in the basement by straddling inflatable pool toys
Her mother’s face in the gold hand mirror
in the dark peach bedroom
looking away  
This is the thing
about not ever needing anyone  
all your secrets are your own
Watch them
bead up like dew

Corinne A. Schneider is a working poet from the Great Lakes / Rust Belt of the US. She writes poems, essays and other ephemera from the House of Sex, Death & Taxes. Her work has recently appeared in Bone Bouquet, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, Queen Mob’s Tea House, Coldfront Mag, and So to Speak.  She lives in Washington, DC with her cats and partner and writes about international solar energy markets for a living.  



Bell rung


David Felix is an English visual poet who lives in Denmark. For fifty years or so his writing has taken on a variety of forms, in collage, three dimensions, in galleries, festival performances and video and in over thirty publications worldwide, both print and online. Born into a family of artists, magicians and tailors he still maintains a professional working relationship with a life model, the materializing lady and a fitting assistant.


Libido Fever

do you love me enough to ruin my life & / or lay me out
sparingly I / my desire only increases not mine you said I had to
grieve so I will do my best but / I want to happen like there’s no
such thing as repetition or / [did we really love without asking
whether we knew how not to hurt / who hurt / who knows each
other & / or oneself who / knows] // pause // but tell me why do
you dance & who are you dancing for [shut up you sleaze
okay / okay / okay] // pause // I took care , you see , to fill my
life with such miserable intimacies I didn’t feel what / well /
appalled at what / [who] / how I did but did I ever know desire
until now [look , it’s only grief dressed up in gladrags & how it
parades its stench of meats & spills the double-backed bedbeast
verily steaming down its plinth! I / I should really send you a
long way away you poor incendiary thing o , a thing to hold on
to like pleasure] // pause // now I shhh tread softly to the
downbelow devices & trawl your extant hungry smudges in the
bawled-all-over & trembling [o , the traps you set for my
cheapness / such is the failure of sincerity o , & the parapet of
your affect!] // pause // now / now / now the curtain rises & all
your dreams go public on a million infamous nobodies [you
must not cry / it is forbidden to cry] & may this wanting you
stop / never stop but Christ how lonely the living are in the
early faces dawn talking god / soaps / war & all privacy is
theft / against your will / my will / nothing like life // pause //
why won’t you come home & give me your love-diseases

without which not

the time I let my mouth out was a very bad time & in some
things Ma had a point but god knows she made that point with
an aggregate rage like / rage was a matter of fact thing or the
raft she clung to or the ultimate state of existence & / yes
according to her I had no business with things like feelings & in
that respect hers was a hit & run love or a bloody oil & knuckle
affair or // pause // a wound yes if anything Ma was a wound
the kind I was going to say that “keeps on giving” but can a
wound give / well if it gives I suppose it secretes which is
another way of saying displays & conceals for what is a Ma but
an impeccable mystery or allegory or // pause // the perpetual
suggestion of some unmentionable thing & its simultaneous
withholding or the answer to a question she devises under her
film which discharges / seeps / expels / oozes & if only this
weren’t the morning after the lifetime before & if only
the mouth weren’t a very bad time but it gives o yes it / gives but
when I say gives do I really mean takes & when I say wound do
I really mean // pause // & it helps to know what things are like
if only to feel the gap in the middle like // pause // simile were
an infinite generator of wounds / secretions / rages & the more
she takes the more she gives & what is a wound but that which
cannot wound itself

Amy McCauley works as Editor of Creative Response for the feminist visual arts website MAI Journal. She is interested in trans-genre writing, auto-frictions and feminisms. Amy’s first collection of poetry ‘Oedipa’ will be published by Guillemot Press in 2018.

Anne Boyer


I am no expert on phenomenology or anything, only there is that problem of how to turn into body that which is okay as air. To “monetize” is to make spirit material. Blogger offers this service. Fiction implies intent, narrative structure, guiding intelligence – a lie is so often an error, an accident, a leaking self-protective fantasy. Character can mean at least two things here: good character (the poet’s lack of it), and character, as in a fictional construct. “Who needs” is surrender.

What I can’t have I often pretend that I don’t want. Dante is the Italian poet, and he is the only character the work requires because he sets the literary precedent for spiteful visions of love in semi-arduous forms. Because he is a great poet he can vouch for the author of this work: she is devoted to understanding but works from a kind of green chaos of circumstance. Often the poet thinks of the phrase “beau desordre” but has a difficult time finding out much about it because her French is poor. She turns the concept of lyric disarray.

She turns the concept of lyric disarray into a former lover. Though the poet suggested she didn’t need characters, she introduces one. The lover Bo might not even be named this anymore. This lover might be based on someone real, but I am afraid there is not much esteem here for the factories that manufacture odes. There is not actually a Prime Minister of America and America is not a city. The Prime Minister is in a play called Das Kapital. Cell phones are actually radiant. People use these phones as beacons and guides.

Why telecommunications are so important is an embarrassing secret. Why milk, not manna? Because my cell phone is not like money, it is like some sort of nourishing excretion when the right voice comes out the other side. The poet considers her literary works a symptom, a perseveration, a kind of anti-social insistence in repeating, again and again, what no one wants to hear – to her, then, all the poets are perseverating animals. Then there is the story of how the poet was writing and her daughter made an obvious statement: “Everything tastes better in a spoon.”

Everything tastes better in a spoon because it is a small measure. Then there is a small measure of quotation, the first line of Bernadette Mayer’s Eruditio ex Memoria. This has so much meaning, because Antonin Artaud is actually my doctor. But so is Bernadette Mayer. And, believe it or not, this project bears a certain resemblance to that project, except the entire history of Western Civilization is not written on paper but in the poet’s head. At this point the poet actually merges her lecture notes with the poem: I am tired of telling you lies.

Egon is a character in Ghost Busters, but also one of the poet’s lovers, one who left ringlets on the poet’s linoleum. The poet is so often making up absurd names for speculative cultural artifacts: she has a taste for westerns. She can’t be trusted because she has flights, goes off into her interior in which everything is corrupted by a habit of fancy. But to see the ringlets—the labor of love left for her—is to wake her up again, bring her back to reality or what someone in her lecture notes called “the petrified life.” There is some nonsense here. There is a hatred of the thesaurus. “The duty of the poet is to cheer up content providers and bore despots” is an allusion to Walt Whitman who wrote “The duty of the poet is to cheer up slaves and horrify despots.” Content providers are no more or less like slaves than anyone else. Despots remain despots. In this cosmology the despots are near to the natural men who assert their free expression over everything though the natural men are often only despots in miniature.

She keeps repeating herself. She keeps quoting country songs no one knows. She makes these technology references like Bluetooth and reference to things like streets and boulevards and maps and city planning like she has gone into a trance and come back as a global positioning system. But the streets are sexual because they are a place for display and Bluetooth is sexual because it allows people and their machines to hook up to one another. Don’t you understand anything? This is a poem about sex / this is a poem about work / this is a poem about information and the hollowed life.

 WORDS-LINKS: The recipe tonight. A spoonful of madness

Anne Boyer


Mετάφραση: Δήμητρα Iωάννου

Δεν είμαι ειδική στη φαινομενολογία ή σε κάτι άλλο, μόνο που υπάρχει αυτό το πρόβλημα του πώς μετατρέπεται σε σώμα αυτό που είναι μια χαρά ως αέρας. Tο να «νομισματοποιείς» σημαίνει να κάνεις ύλη το πνεύμα. Tο Blogger προσφέρει αυτή την υπηρεσία. H μυθοπλασία συνεπάγεται πρόθεση, αφηγηματική δομή, μια κατευθυντήρια ευφυία – ένα ψέμα είναι τόσο συχνά σφάλμα, ένα ατύχημα, μια φαντασίωση αυτο-προστασίας που διαρρέει. Ο χαρακτήρας μπορεί εδώ να σημαίνει τουλάχιστον δύο πράγματα: τον καλό χαρακτήρα (τον οποίο δεν έχει η ποιήτρια), και τον χαρακτήρα όπως εμφανίζεται σε μια μυθοπλαστική κατασκευή. «Ποιός χρειάζεται» σημαίνει παραδίνομαι.

Συχνά υποκρίνομαι πως δεν θέλω αυτό που δεν μπορώ να έχω. O Dante είναι ο Iταλός ποιητής και ο μοναδικός χαρακτήρας που απαιτεί το έργο επειδή δημιουργεί λογοτεχνικό προηγούμενο για εχθρικά οράματα αγάπης σε ημιτελείς φόρμουλες. Επειδή είναι σπουδαίος ποιητής μπορεί να εγγυηθεί για τη συγγραφέα αυτού του έργου: είναι αφοσιωμένη στην κατανόηση αλλά εργάζεται μέσα από ένα είδος πράσινου περιστασιακού χάους. Συχνά η ποιήτρια σκέφτεται τη φράση «beau désordre» αλλά δυσκολεύεται να βρει περισσότερα στοιχεία γι’ αυτήν, επειδή τα γαλλικά της είναι στοιχειώδη.

Δίνει στην έννοια της λυρικής σύγχυσης τη μορφή ενός παλιού έρωτα. Αν και η ποιήτρια υπαινίχθηκε ότι δεν χρειαζόταν χαρακτήρες, τώρα εισάγει έναν. Ο έρωτας με το όνομα Bo μπορεί να μην ονομάζεται πια έτσι. O έρωτας αυτός μπορεί να βασίζεται σ’ έναν αληθινό αλλά φοβάμαι πως δεν τρέφω ιδιαίτερη εκτίμηση για τα εργοστάσια κατασκευής ωδών. Στην πραγματικότητα δεν υπάρχει Πρωθυπουργός της Aμερικής όπως επίσης η Aμερική δεν είναι πόλη. O Πρωθυπουργός βρίσκεται σ’ ένα θεατρικό με τον τίτλο Das Kapital. Στην πραγματικότητα τα κινητά τηλέφωνα εκπέμπουν ακτινοβολία. Oι άνθρωποι τα χρησιμοποιούν σαν φακούς και οδηγούς.

Ο λόγος για τον οποίο οι τηλεπικοινωνίες είναι τόσο σημαντικές είναι ένα μυστικό που προκαλεί αμηχανία. Γιατί γάλα και όχι μάννα; Eπειδή το κινητό τηλέφωνό μου δεν είναι σαν τα χρήματα, είναι ένα είδος θρεπτικής απέκκρισης όταν από την άλλη πλευρά ακούγεται η σωστή φωνή. H ποιήτρια θεωρεί ότι τα λογοτεχνικά της έργα είναι ένα σύμπτωμα, μια προσήλωση, ένα είδος αντι-κοινωνικής επιμονής στην επανάλειψη, ξανά και ξανά, σ’ αυτό που δεν θέλει ν’ ακούσει κανείς – οπότε θεωρεί ότι όλοι οι ποιητές είναι προσκολλημένα ζώα. Aκολουθεί αναφορά στα λόγια της κόρης της η οποία, ενώ η ποιήτρια έγραφε, έκανε μια προφανή δήλωση: «Όλα έχουν καλύτερη γεύση στο κουτάλι».

Στο κουτάλι όλα έχουν καλύτερη γεύση γιατί περιλαμβάνονται σε περιορισμένο βαθμό. Στη συνέχεια αρχίζει περιορισμένος βαθμός παραθέσεων, με τον πρώτο στίχο από το βιβλίο της Bernadette Mayer «Eruditio ex Memoria». Το νόημά του είναι τόσο βαθύ επειδή ο Antonin Artaud είναι στην πραγματικότητα ο γιατρός μου. Tο ίδιο και η Bernadette Mayer. Kι αυτό το έργο, είτε το πιστεύετε είτε όχι, έχει μια κάποια ομοιότητα μ’ εκείνο το έργο, με τη μόνη διαφορά ότι ολόκληρη η ιστορία του Δυτικού Πολιτισμού δεν είναι γραμμένη σε χαρτί αλλά στο μυαλό της ποιήτριας. Σ’ αυτό το σημείο η ποιήτρια ουσιαστικά συγχωνεύει τις σημειώσεις της ομιλίας της με το ίδιο το ποίημα: Bαρέθηκα να σας λέω ψέματα.

O Egon είναι χαρακτήρας στο Ghost Busters όπως κι ένας από τους εραστές της ποιήτριας που άφησε στο πάτωμά της δακτύλιους. H ποιήτρια τόσο συχνά επιννοεί παράλογα ονόματα για υποθετικά πολιτιστικά τεχνουργήματα: έχει μια προτίμηση στα γουέστερν. Δεν είναι αξιόπιστη γιατί συνηθίζει τα πνευματιστικά ταξίδια. Στο εσωτερικό του σπιτιού της όπου όλα έχουν διαφθαρεί από τη συνήθεια της φαντασίωσης, απογειώνεται. Aλλά στη θέα των δακτυλίων -το έργο αγάπης που της άφησε-, ξυπνάει και πάλι, επιστρέφει στην πραγματικότητα ή σ’ αυτό που στις σημειώσεις της ομιλίας της κάποιος αποκάλεσε «η απολιθωμένη ζωή». Κάτι δεν στέκει εδώ. Υπάρχει μια απέχθεια για το λεξικό συνωνύμων. «Καθήκον της ποιήτριας είναι να εμψυχώνει τους παρόχους περιεχομένου και να κάνει τους δεσπότες να βαρεθούν» ως υπαινιγμός στον Walt Whitman, ο οποίος έγραψε: «Tο καθήκον του ποιητή είναι να εμψυχώνει τους σκλάβους και να τρομοκρατεί τους δεσπότες». Oι παροχείς περιεχομένου είναι λίγο ή πολύ σκλάβοι όπως όλοι μας. Oι δεσπότες παραμένουν δεσπότες. Σ’ αυτή την κοσμολογία, οι δεσπότες είναι κοντά στους απλούς ανθρώπους, οι οποίοι διατυμπανίζουν την ελευθερία της έκφρασής τους πάνω απ’ όλα, αν και οι απλοί άνθρωποι είναι συχνά δεσπότες σε μικρογραφία.

Η ποιήτρια συνεχίζει να επαναλαμβάνεται. Συνεχίζει να αναφέρει άγνωστα τραγούδια της κάντρι. Kάνει αυτές τις τεχνολογικές αναφορές τύπου Blootooth και τις αναφορές σε δρόμους και βουλεβάρτα και χάρτες και σχέδια πόλης σαν να βρίσκεται σε έκσταση και να επιστρέφει ως παγκόσμιο σύστημα εντοπισμού θέσης. Aλλά οι δρόμοι είναι ερωτικοί γιατί είναι χώροι επίδειξης και το Buetooth είναι ερωτικό γιατί επιτρέπει στους ανθρώπους και στις μηχανές τους να συνδεθούν μεταξύ τους. Δεν καταλαβαίνετε τίποτα; Aυτό είναι ένα ποίημα για το σεξ / αυτό είναι ένα ποίημα για την εργασία / αυτό είναι ένα ποίημα για την πληροφορία και την άδεια ζωή.

ΛEΞEIΣ-ΣYNΔEΣMOI: H αποψινή συνταγή. Mια κουταλιά της σούπας τρέλλα


του Aντώνη Kατσούρη  .  by Antonis Katsouris


ΛEΞEIΣ-ΣYNΔEΣMOI: Pαγισμένη Σφίγγα

WORDS-LINKS: Sphinx fissuré



by Brett Skarbakka

BrettSkarbakkaTo do with wild growth into itself



Κοσμάς Νικολάου . Kosmas Nikolaou


ΛEΞEIΣ-ΣYNΔEΣMOI: μια άσκηση φυσικής άλυτη

WORDS-LINKS: an unsolved problem in physics exercise



ΚΕΙΜΕΝΟ-ΠΗΓΗ: Το κείμενο «Η Αν έρχεται πολλές φορές: Διαλογισμός σε αφήγηση» της Τιρίσα Κάρμοντι.


• Το σχέδιο «Δίνη» της Βικτώριας Δεληγιάννη σε σύνδεση με τις λέξεις «μία αρχή κι ένα τέλος»

• Η φωτογραφία «Και μετά δεν έμεινε κανείς» της Δήμητρας Ιωάννου σε σύνδεση με τη λέξη «φάει»

• Το ποίημα «Στην κουζίνα μου» του Αντώνη Κατσούρη σε σύνδεση με τη λέξη «κουζίνα»

• Το φωτογραφικό δίπτυχο από τη σειρά «Irriducibile» της σε σύνδεση με τη λέξη «κενό»

Παρακαλώ καθίστε άνετα και χαλαρώστε. Η Άννα έρχεται. Μπορείτε να τη δείτε; Μπορείτε να έρθετε μαζί της; Αυτός είναι ένας κατευθυνόμενος διαλογισμός. Παρακαλώ, συγκεντρωθείτε στο κείμενο. Το Τεύχος 10 σας προσκαλεί να διαλογιστείτε ακολουθώντας τις αφηγηματικές οδηγίες της Τιρίσα Κάρμοντι.

Το κείμενο «Η Άννα έρχεται πολλές φορές: διαλογισμός σε αφήγηση» διαβάστηκε μαζί με άλλα την Κυριακή 22 Απριλίου 2011 στα πλαίσια ενός Μαραθόνιου Πειραματικού Διαλογισμού, «μια ολοήμερη περιπέτεια στον ενδοσκοπικό χώρο του πειραματικού κατευθυνόμενου διαλογισμού που διοργάνωσε η Los Angeles Meditation Ghostwriters Guild». Οι επισκέπτες μπορούσαν να φέρουν μαζί τους ένα στρώμα της γιόγκα ή ένα μαξιλάρι για να καθίσουν ή να ξαπλώσουν πάνω του. Eδώ βρίσκεται ο σύνδεσμος για την ηχογράφηση.

Η Τιρίσα Κάρμοντι είναι συγγραφέας του «Requiem» (Les Figues, 2005), μια μικρο-συλλογή διηγημάτων «με τη δομή μιας σειράς αφηγήσεων για φωνές», και του «Eye Hole Adore» (PS Books, 2008). Η Κάρμοντι διευθύνει μαζί με την Βανέσα Πλέις τις εκδόσεις Les Figues Press, οι οποίες δημοσιεύουν καινοτόμα, πειραματικά και πρωτοποριακά έργα, ενώ συνεπιμελείται τη σειρά αναγνώσεων Mommy Mommy! στο Λος Άντζελες.



Μετάφραση: Δήμητρα Ιωάννου

Ρύθμιση για μία φωνή: αυτό το κείμενο θα πρέπει να διαβαστεί αργά, με σταθερή διατύπωση σε μία ομάδα ανθρώπων που κάθονται άνετα με την πλάτη τους ίσια και τα μάτια κλειστά.  /  Τα χέρια τους θα πρέπει ν’ ακουμπούν στα πόδια ή τα γόνατά τους, με τις παλάμες προς τα πάνω.  /  Ίσως προτιμήσουν ν’ αγγίζουν με τις άκρες του δείκτη τις άκρες του αντίχειρα, αλλά αυτό δεν είναι απαραίτητο.  /  Φανταστείτε εσάς σαν τους δείκτες σας και το κείμενο σαν τους αντίχειρές σας.  /  Αυτό σημαίνει ότι υπάρχουν δύο εαυτοί και δύο κείμενα.  /  Ορισμένοι από σας αγγίζουν απευθείας το κείμενο· όλοι συνδέεστε με το κείμενο με τη σάρκα ανάμεσα στους δείκτες σας και τους αντίχειρες σας.  /  Ανάμεσα στους δύο αντίχειρές σας, στα δύο κείμενα, κάθεται αναπνέοντας ο θώρακάς σας, ο οποίος συγκρατεί την καρδιά σας που χτυπάει, μια καρδιά που χτυπάει ενώ τη στηρίζουν δύο πνεύμονες, αριστερά και δεξιά.  /  Τώρα εισπνεύστε βαθιά.  /  Και αφήστε την αναπνοή να βγει.  /  Αναπνεύστε και πάλι βαθιά.  /  Και χαλαρώστε στην εκπνοή σας.  /  Συνεχίστε να εισπνέετε και να εκπνέετε, δεξιά και αριστερά, παρατηρείστε την αναπνοή σας, δεξής πνεύμονας, τώρα αριστερός. 

Ο ερχομός της Αν

Η Αν έρχεται.  Κατευθύνεται, ένα πόδι μετά ένα άλλο, στην κουζίνα, ένα δωμάτιο στο οποίο μπαίνει κάθε ημέρα, πολλαπλές φορές κάθε ημέρα τεντώνει το δεξί χέρι της και σπρώχνει τον διακόπτη προς τα πάνω.  Το κάνει αυτό χωρίς να σκέφτεται, χωρίς να αισθάνεται το απαλό πλαστικό στα δάχτυλά της, το ανεπαίσθητο μυικό τέντωμα στο δεξί χέρι της.  Το φως ανάβει και η Αν έρχεται στην κουζίνα γιατί η Αν μπορεί να πάει σ’ αυτή την κουζίνα και να την χρησιμοποιήσει. Η κουζίνα της Ανς μοιάζει με τη δική σας.  Η Αν στέκεται μπροστά από το ψυγείο, το οποίο μοιάζει με το ψυγείο σας, το ίδιο χρώμα και στιλ, η ίδια κατασκευή στην πόρτα, το ίδιο χερούλι ή χερούλια με πανομοιότυπη καμπύλη.  Μπορείτε να το δείτε;  Η Αν κοιτάζει το ψυγείο και βλέπει το ψυγείο σας ακριβώς όπως το βλέπετε. Παλιό ή καινούργιο, ένα σημάδι του εφήμερου, ή απαραίτητο, κάτι που θεωρείται δεδομένο όπως είναι τα πράγματα σήμερα, διαφορετικά από το πώς ήταν όταν ήσασταν νέοι. Τι βάζετε έξω από το ψυγείο σας: έναν μαγνήτη, ένα κομμάτι χαρτί με μια σημείωση, ένα παιδικό σχέδιο, μια φωτογραφία, τίποτα απολύτως. Η Αν κοιτάζει το ψυγείο και βλέπει τι υπάρχει εκεί.  Όταν ανοίγει την πόρτα κοιτάζει, πραγματικά κοιτάζει, και αντικρύζει τα πράγματα που αγοράζετε πάντα ή ποτέ δεν πετάτε, τα αναψυκτικά, τα δοχεία, τα μπαχαρικά/καρυκεύματα που είναι τακτοποιημένα στα ράφια της πόρτας του ψυγείου, εκεί όπου πάντα βάζετε αυτό το ένα πράγμα. Και η Αν, εκεί βάζει τα δικά της. Από κάτω τους βρίσκονται τα ψίχουλα ή μια επιφάνεια καθαρή.

Ο ερχομός της Αν

Η Αν έρχεται κάθε ημέρα. Η Αν πεινάει. Αυτό το αίσθημα της πείνας άργησε να έρθει, αλλά δεν την ξάφνιασε γιατί είναι ένα αίσθημα που το γνωρίζει καλά, αρκετές φορές κάθε ημέρα η Αν αισθάνεται ένα κενό χαμηλά στο στομάχι της.  Η Αν συχνά ξεχνάει την κοιλιά της. Δεν φοράει πολύ στενά ή μη άνετα παντελόνια, όχι πια, οπότε όπως περνάνε οι ώρες δεν υπάρχει τίποτα που να θυμίζει στην Αν την κοιλιά της. Η Αν δεν ξεκουμπώνει πια ένα πολύ στενό παντελόνι, δεν ξύνει πια, από τη φαγούρα και τα τσιμπήματα, το αποτύπωμα που αφήνει το ύφασμα όταν δένεται σφιχτά στο δέρμα. Τώρα, η Αν σκέφτεται την κοιλιά της μόνο όταν πεινάει, δεν σκέφτεται πια το δέρμα που καλύπτει την κοιλιά της και δεν σκέφτεται ποτέ τι βρίσκεται ανάμεσα στο δέρμα της και την κοιλιά της.  Αποκαλεί τα πάντα κοιλιά της, όλα κάτω από τα πλευρά της και λίγο πιο πάνω από την ήβη της  -τα μικρά και τα μεγάλα εντόσθιά της, χοληδόχος κύστη, πάνγκρεας, μείζον και έλλασον επίπλουν, τους κοιλιακούς μύς της, τα τρία ξεχωριστά στρώματα του δέρματός της- όλα αυτά τ’ αποκαλεί στομάχι της εκτός από την περίοδο της εμμηνόρροιας οπότε έχει και μήτρα.  Μερικές φορές όταν έχει μήτρα όλα τα κύτταρά της γίνονται το στομάχι της και χρειάζεται να τρώει πρωτεϊνη -κόκκινο κρέας ή ξηρούς καρπούς- ώστε τα δάχτυλα των ποδιών της να είναι εντάξει.  Η Αν δεν νοιώθει εκείνο το είδος της πείνας τώρα.  Τώρα η Αν αισθάνεται εκείνο το βαθύ, χαμηλό κενό που κάνει τα δάχτυλα και το στήθος της να τρεμουλιάζουν.  Το κενό χρειάζεται κάτι. Είναι πείνα χωρίς λαχτάρα.  Η πείνα στραγγίζει το αίμα από το κεφάλι της.  Όλοι και όλα μπαίνουν στον δρόμο της Αν και η Αν ζαλίζεται.  Έχει έρθει σ’ έναν χώρο ζαλάδας γιατί δεν έχει φάει εδώ και αρκετές ώρες.  Την τελευταία φορά που έφαγε, έφαγε ό,τι φάγατε τελευταία, τόσο πολύ ή τόσο λίγο, είχε την ίδια γεύση αλλά το έφαγε πιο αργά.  Έφαγε το δικό της πολλές ώρες πριν φάτε το δικό σας.  Τι έφαγε η Αν;  Η Αν μόλις που υπάρχει.
Πρέπει να την ταΐσετε.

Ο ερχομός της Αν

Η Αν έρχεται κάθε ημέρα.  Έρχεται στον διάδρομο, στο μπάνιο, στη ντουσιέρα.  Έρχεται από το κρεβάτι και πάλι πίσω.  Στέκεται μπροστά από τον καθρέφτη και κοιτάζει τα μαλλιά της, το δέρμα της, το δέρμα κάτω από τα μάτια της,  τις ατέλειές του.  Περπατάει από την κουζίνα στην κρεβατοκάμαρα στην κουζίνα.  Κοιτάζει τον πάγκο, τα νύχια της, ένα σημείο στο πάτωμα.  Μερικές φορές, προσέχει αυτό που τώρα προσέχει και επανέρχεται.  Μερικές φορές σταματάει και καθυστερεί και λέει: τι είναι αυτό.

Ο ερχομός της Αν

Εδώ, η ιστορία τελειώνει.

Ο ερχομός της Αν

Η Αν θέλει να υπάρξει τόσο όσο εσείς. Αλήθεια είναι αυτό; Θα ήθελε να πει ότι είναι. Δεν υπάρχει αρχή σ’ ένα τέλος αλλά υπάρχει μία αρχή κι ένα τέλος στην αρχή και μία αρχή ξανά και ξανά.  Μα ναι φυσικά. Θα ήθελα απλά να πω:




SOURCE TEXT: The script of the movie Funeral Parade of Roses by Toshio Matsumoto.


• The scenario At the temple of sad stories by Dimitra Ioannou is linked to the word “fake”

• The photo Is it a rose or is it a mirror? by Cateryna Kosty is linked to the word “mirage”

• The photo When (your) love was green by Antonis Katsouris is linked to the word “garden”

• The collage Queen by Vassilis Salpistis is linked to the word “queen”

• The drawing Beautiful, Eddie by Irini Karayannopoulou is linked to the word “beautiful”

• The image Deserting by Angela Mewes is linked to the word “deserting”

• The image Eddie by Angela Mewes is linked to the word “Eddie”

aglimpseof’s second issue begins with the script of the movie “Funeral Parade of Roses” by Toshio Matsumoto (Tokyo, 1969); a“mosaic” of dialogues, recollections, interviews, thoughts, comments, lyrics and quotations that was made by free association so as to create a psychedelically blurred narration. “The story doesn’t unfold along a single strand of linear time”, as Matsumoto himself points out in his commentary track which is included on the DVD release of the film by Eureka!/Masters of Cinema (

“The theme of blurred outlines becomes a central motif in the film. The fact that boundary lines are not delineated and that the definition of things is unclear. In other words, things are separated down the middle by boundary lines and this system of demarcating various things in the world was created entirely by human beings. So this means that when the standards and criteria imposed on the world become less exact, our way of looking at the world becomes more blurred. Therefore, objectivity and subjectivity, male and female, fiction and reality, all these definitions become blurred. I think you can understand the issue here is that we were in an era when our world which has been adjusted to fit according to our ideas no longer seemed so fixed and inflexible. I suppose we could call this vagueness, this haze a kind of fissure in the world.”

PS. The asterisks are used to indicate the scenes; tiny fragments with no chronological order that you may read in a fragmented way if you find the text too long (which is).

Funeral Parade of roses by Toshio Matsumoto

I am the wound and the blade, both the torturer and he who is flayed.1

– It’s a beautiful day.
– It’s too bright.
– Is that OK?
– Yes. I don’t like the sun.
– You’re like an owl.
– Oh, no. Pass me that.
– Do you like my muscles?
– Can you lift the chair?
– Of course I can.
– Can you do my back up?
– How do I look?
Beautiful, Eddie.
– Do you like my hair down or up?
– Either way.
– I hate to leave you.
– Don’t quit the bar.
– I have to.
– Give me time. I’ll make Leda quit the bar. Then you’ll be the proprietress.
– She’ll want revenge over the dope.
– Damn Leda!


– Do you want a cigarette?
– That was Leda.
– No.
– It was.
– Don’t look back.
– Was she following us?
– Nonsense!
– But it was Leda.
– What will she do?
– Nothing.
– I’m scared.
– Damn Leda! If she acts funny…
– Don’t say anymore.


– Your hand. Everybody, your hands, please!
– What is it?
– Open your hand.
– What’s this?


– You look exactly like a girl. How long have you been a queen?
– For four years.
– Why did you decide to become a queen?
– I wanted to be a girl. I like it.
– You like girls?
– No, I like to behave like one.
– Does it satisfy you?
– Well, I’m very happy now.
– Will you become a “man” again?
– I don’t think so.
– Will you become a transsexual?
– No, I won’t go that far.


– How long have you been gay?
– Since last December.
– How come?
– I like it.
– You like what?
– Being gay.
– Gay? You mean you like men?
– Not exactly. I can’t tell. I like gays, that’s all.
– Being a queen?
– Yes.
– How come?
– I was born that way.
– Born?


– Hello! It’s been a long time.
– What a great place.
– I was so tired.
– Too much sex!
– Do you know what this is?
– What is it?
– As if you didn’t know.
– Oh, no! You’re embarrassing me.
– Watch!


– Things have changed.
– In this area, yes. You’re so right.
– It was good in Akasaka.
– The good old days!
– This is the Madame.
– Beautiful! Wonderful!
– Telephone for you.
– Excuse me.
– Hello? Mr Iida? Where are you? The Jardin? Come over here. I’ll be waiting. See you later.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?

– You’re late.
– I’m sorry.
– Glad you could make it. She’s got a nerve.
– By the way, did you bring it?


– Where to, Tony?
– Hey, what’s up? Hey, were are you going?


– Steady! No. All right, cut!
– I’ll do it.
– Take it easy.
– You arse! Leave it to me. Move it, you lot. Slowly. OK?
– No.
– This is as good as I can make it.
– It’s no good.
– Damn it!
– Good! It’s OK.
– I’m talented!
– Hardly!
– Don’t move!
– Yeah, that’s it.
– Cut! That’s all.
– We’ve 20 feet left.
– Want a cigarette?
– Keep it.
– I want to smoke marijuana.
– Eddie’s not here.
– Burn banana peel.
– That doesn’t work.
– I have two pills.
– Give them to me!
– Only two.
– Eye lotion helps.
– Drink it!


– They look weird!
– He looks good!


Funeral Parade of Roses


– She’s shameless, that girl! She makes me mad.
– Don’t worry. Young people nowadays think differently.
– You’re just encouraging them.
– Don’t be critical or no one will work with you.
– But Eddie has bad manners. All she knows is how to flirt.
– Times have changed.
– But queens should have pride, too. We must respect ourselves. Ouch.
– What’s wrong?
– I cut my leg. I’m bleeding. Look. Ouch.
– It’s like a mosquito bite. You’re all right now. Don’t get hysterical.
– I’m sorry. I was anxious.
– What about?
– That you’d desert me.
– You’re being stupid.
– You won’t?
– Never.
– Who do you like better, me or Eddie?
– You, of course.


– Let’s have some fun together.
– Come on.
– What’s wrong?
– Nothing.
– Are you alone?
– Yes, but I’m all right now.
– How about a drink with me?
– Come and keep me company.


“Every man has his own mask which he has carved for a long time. Some wear the same masks all their lives, others use a variety of masks. Some masks stress the features others are far from their original. Some are poor and easily distinguishable others are so skilfully made, they’re hardly distinguishable. People always wear masks when they face each other. They see only masks. Even if they remove their masks their faces seldom expose themselves. Because there may be second masks. And even third masks hidden under the first ones. Therefore, people often take your masks for you. And you take theirs for them. The objective of love and hatred may be the masks. Faces suffer loneliness. People try to escape from it and make new masks.”


– Hey, taxi, taxi!
– Where are we going?


– Look, Guevara. Do you want this?
– Thread it through.
– OK.


What a sly, mysterious scheme!


– Cut! Oh, wait. OK. OK!
– You don’t need the microphone.
– Next, an interview with Rabbit.
– An interview? We only have 20 minutes left. Only 20 minutes.
– Let’s have an interview with Rabbit.


– Do you like the love scene?
– Yes.
– A man loves a man. As a queen, what do you think? Don’t you feel guilty?
– Well, you can love a man, as well as a woman. If you’re in love, it makes no difference.
– Do queens have no interest in girls as sex objects?
– There are various types. I can’t say yes or no.
– Are you more interested in men or in women?
– Me personally?
– I mean generally.
– Generally, yes. They tell themselves they’re women.
– How about you?
– Me? You can guess.


Please don’t smoke/your cigarettes in bed./If you truly love me/please just turn out the lights./Let’s close our eyes./And dream sweet dreams./Your sighs say more to me/than any words could./Tonight we will be together/once again./Please don’t smoke/your cigarettes in bed, will you?

– Do you know “NHSMC”? Nihon Homosexual Men’s Club.
– Where is it?
– In Minami-cho. There’s a party every week. The members bring handsome boys.
– I read about it in the paper.
– No, it’s in Akasaka.
– Really?
– You mean the secret club for homosexuals?
– There’s a lot of them.
– There are many impersonators, too.
– Impersonators?
– They pretend to be gay.
– They can earn more that way.
– Don’t look at us like that. We’re the genuine article!
– Some detectives are here.
– Detectives?
– Eddie… Do you know him?
– Who?
– He’s called Yagawa.
– He’s missing.
– Never seen him.


– It was 12 years ago today. You don’t remember.
– Forget about father. You have me.


– This is so delicious.
– How nice!
– That’s pretty!
– It’s expensive.
– It could be a present for me.
– A patron?
– Yes.
– Old news.
– I didn’t know.
– Excuse me.
– Me, too.

Board of Film Censorship/15877


– What good is she? She’s just a loafer.
– Come, come.
– Nothing is any good.
– Watch out. I understand. Go to bed.
– Promise me you’ll fire Eddie, or I won’t move.
– You’re impossible. Eddie is the number one girl at Bar Genet. Customers come to see her.  Remember that.
– You’re in love with her. Say so.
– Stop being stupid! You’re always complaining.
– You rat! Are you a man?
-“Are you a man?” That’s a question I should ask you. I’ll make one thing clear. If anyone has to quit, it’s you, not her.
– I understand. Try to fire me, if you can. I’ll expose your secret business.

Then, you don’t love mankind?

– Don’t desert me!
– I’m not kidding!

No, I hate it.


– Damn Leda! If she acts funny…
– Don’t say any more. Stop! Please stop.
– What’s up?
– I feel sick. Let me get out.
– Don’t be nervous, Eddie. I’ll take you home.
– I need some fresh air.
– Are you all right? I’ll call you later.


– They look weird.


– So, what do you think of it?
– I don’t know.
– My ears are humming.
– I’ve never seen anything like it before.
– Unplug the speakers.
– It’s very “underground”, isn’t it?
– Kind of…
– You look surprised.
– I am.
– “All definitions of cinema have been erased. All doors are now open”, Menas Jokas.
– Jonas Mekas.
– Of course.
– But you must feel something with your body.
– It’s intoxicating.
– Really? I prefer real drugs.
– Good! It’s time for some.
– No.
– Oh, pot!
– Good!
– No!
– Don’t push me.
– Two for me.
– Two. No credit.
– Don’t be stingy!
– For you, Piro?
– One.


– How much marijuana have you smoked?
– I’ve smoked a lot. I smoke heavily.
– How do you feel when you smoke it?
– I feel like I’m floating up from the chair. That’s how I feel. Like a chair on a rock. Do you know that feeling? A chair on a rock. It’s not too hard to touch. I’m floating up from my bed… That kind of feeling. I want that feeling again. I want more of it.
– Have you ever smoked marijuana?
– No.


– Have you ever done drugs?
– I do them all the time.
– What kind of drugs?
– Minahai and Norumo. When I’m out of that I take Maruso and Donton.
– How do you feel?
– Well, my senses become paralysed. I become psychologically idle, that’s all.
– Well, I find myself in a state of mind where I can’t see myself.
– Something like a state of ecstasy?
– Not like ecstasy, or anything. When I take it too much I don’t even remember that I’ve taken it. I don’t feel like I exist, but still I hear later on that I was moving around, and did many things. It’s an interesting experience.
– What are you looking for from that experience?
– I’m not looking for anything. It’s meaningless.
– How did you get yourself caught up in this habit?
– Well, it’s like alcohol, but it’s easier to take than alcohol.


– Stop it! You’re tickling me!
– You’re next!
– Try your best!
– The top or the bottom?
– You’re a glamorous type!
– Guevara, go for it!
– See, I told you I could!
– Take off your shirt!
– Get off me! I’ll do it!
– What a dirty vest!
– Eddie’s next.
– Me? No.
– Try harder, Eddie.
– Strip!
– Not yet. Take these off first.
– “The first chapter has ended. I’ll leave you and go on my next trip.”


Roses. Oh, the empire of roses!


– Good morning!
– Hello!
– Let’s go to the beauty parlour.
– Just give me a minute.
– OK.
– I’ll put my make-up on.
– These look delicious. Can I have one?
– Of course you can.
– It looks nice.
– Oh, no, you’re imagining things.
– You are.
– We both have bad imaginations. Have you sinned?
– It was a laugh. I ate at the Kamehachi last night. A boy who sat beside me asked for a date. He invited me to a hotel. I had a few drinks and then I went to the hotel with him. He was a masochist. He asked me to tie him up and step on him. He cried like a fur seal! He believed all the time that I was a girl. But I feel sorry for boys like him.


– You’re being naughty!


– Goodnight.
– Eddie, wait.
– You know what I want to speak to you about? Do you think that I can’t see what you’re up to?

– How dare you? Get out!
– Damn you!


“Behind the masks, faces suffer loneliness. People try to escape.”

– Is that you, Eddie?
– Eddie! Come on!


– I warned you, didn’t I? Don’t cry. This is the last bit.
– Will I’ll be all right for my birthday?
– Of course. They’re just scratches.
– Will you celebrate my birthday with me?
– Let’s go to the Imperial Hotel and have a big party.
– No, let’s have it in my apartment, just the two of us. I’ll decorate my room with flowers. Roses, of course. I’ll light candles as well. It will be wonderful.


– I’m scared. Everything’ s hazy.
– The outlines are always changing.
– I reach for something, but the next moment I see nothing.
– You’re not the only one.
– Can’t I see it as it really is? Or is it gone?
– Suppose it never was there.
– From the beginning?
– Yes, just like a mirage.
– What should I believe?
– I don’t know.
– It’s strange.
– What is?
– It’s like I’ve seen it before. But that’s impossible, right? It’s strange. Something is wrong with me. Can that happen?
– Watch out. Don’t run!


Father’s Return.2


Let the day perish wherein I was born...3


“…it may have an adverse effect on young people. Police headquarters today started an investigation into drug smuggling. As a counter plan, some commentators think it’s too little too late. That’s the end of the news.”


– That was Leda.
– No.
– It was.
– Don’t look back.
– Was she following us?
– Nonsense!


– Scum!


– I feel funny today.
– You’re just tired.
– I feel like “life” left me behind a long, long time ago.
– “A man spend most of his lifetime walking. But he isn’t always a walker. It’s possible that a man who walks little and hates to walk and is never good at walking is a walker beyond doubt.” Le Clezio, a writer, said that.


– You’re being naughty!
– No!
– Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!


– Eddie! Eddie!

The road to sanctity is narrow.4


– Cut!
– What do you think about the hero?
– He and I have something in common. His father leaves him as a child. His way of living resembles mine. His character, too.
– His character? Do you sympathise with him?
– In the way that he lives, yes. But not in terms of incest, or things like that. But I do understand him.
– How did the role attract you?
– This is my first movie, and I’m very interested in it. My circumstances are similar to his. That’s one reason. And gay life is portrayed beautifully.
– And the love scenes?
– I just follow what the director says.


We demand the complete and unconditional withdrawal of all US forces from their bases in Japan!


– Do you know her?
– Only by sight.
– She doesn’t know me.
– That’s good.
– What do you want me to do?
– Be sure that you get her face.


– Who’s there? What’s wrong?
– The police are after me.
– You’re bleeding. Come here.
– I’m really grateful.
– You should go to a hospital.
– Did it hurt?
– No, I didn’t feel it.
– You’re lucky, your injury isn’t serious.
– Thank you.
– Why take part in a riot?
– To bring down the government.
– That still doesn’t justify violence.
– “What matters is not the admission of violence but the progressiveness of the violence. Αnd whether the violence will stop or whether it will last forever. In deciding, don’t judge crimes by morality. People use morality purely by mistake. Place crimes in terms of logic and dynamics and in history, where they belong.”
– I’m late. I must be going.
– I’m sorry to have troubled you.
– That’s all right.


-You’ re late.
– I’m sorry.
– Glad you could make it. She’s got a nerve.
– Hello. Sorry to have kept you waiting. Thanks. It’s all finished. Thanks to you, I have a good appetite.


– What are you looking at?
– What are you looking at?
– You’re looking for trouble, you fags!
– What did you call us?
– She called us fags!
– You are fags, aren’t you?
– You’re just common girls!
– Common girls!
– Men don’t like common girls.
– You dare to call us common? There’s nothing common about our gang tattoos! You see? Now, get them!


– Welcome home. How are they?
– Terrible!
– Are they hurt? Eddie, as well? I don’t want to lose her.
– No kidding! Stop acting! What did you ask Osumi to do for you? She confessed. Did you think that your lousy trick would work?
– Please listen to me.
– Shut up! I see. You mean you love me that much? Or you mean that you love running Bar Genet, not me?
– You’re cruel.
– Don’t cry. No tears for me. No, thank you. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” What a joke! You’re getting old. Your time is over.
– Just like that?
– You can’t blackmail me. There’s no evidence. Take your time and look for it.


The sun, a decapitated head.5


– Are you alone?
– No.
– Welcome. Come in.
– Do you like Akihiro Maruyama?
– I like Carousel Maki.
– I like Maruyama.
– Why?
– Because Maki is a transsexual. I’m sorry.
– How is your movie going?
– There are only a few more scenes to do.
– It’s tough on your first movie.
– Is it interesting?
– I’m not sure. It’s very unique though.

Awaiting your esteemed acclamation!


– Have you seen Leda?
– That’s strange. Juju sent for her.
– She’s late.
– Can we meet again?
– I don’t know. Vietnam is at war.
– Eddie, Juju is on the phone.
– Hello, it’s me. What?


– Roses were her favorite flowers.
– They had to be artificial, too.
– Thank you.
– Thank you, all. Come this way.
– The ground here is sinking.
– It’s true! Look at that.
– The graves are sinking!
– I wish the whole country would sink under water.

The end of the world is nigh.


– Guevara. What are you thinking?
– About the exit.
– What exit?
– “Now, from the open ceiling roses are falling, one after another. Spring! O unhappy spring!”


– Leave it there.
Eddie… I mean Madame. That sounds funny.
– Why?
– What about this one?
– Let me see. Put it in the corner. Sir, throw this away.
– Goodbye.
– Good luck.
– Make sure to drop by again.
– Madame… Can I leave it here?
– Yes.


– What is your biggest dream? What do you want to do in the future?
– Well, I want to have some savings. I think I’d like to run a shop.
– A gay bar?
– Possibly.
– Will you live as a queen all your life?
– Yes.
– Don’t you think about marriage?
– I do, but I won’t get married. I can’t. I can’t be a “man”.


– What do you want to do in the future?
– Nothing in particular. Nothing.
– Nothing at all? No dreams?
– I am what I am.
– Are you happy living as a queen?
– I’m content.
– What are you going to do?
– Nothing.
– You have no ideas?
– …
– Are you happy now?
– Not very.
– No? Well, why don’t you stop being a queen?
– There’s no reason to.


Father’s Return

– Why don’t you take a bath?
– What is it?

“Frightening, isn’t it? The cursed destiny of man. What a mix of cruelty and laughter it is! Let’s look forward to the next programme. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.”


The spirit of an individual reaches its own absolute through incessant negation.6



1.     Τhis is a quotation from the poem “L’héautontimorouménos” (The Man Who Tortures Himself) from The Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire. ― “Je suis la plaie et le couteau!/Je suis le soufflet et la joue!/Je suis les membres et la roue,/Et la victime et le bourreau!”, Les Fleurs du Mal.

2.     A book by Kan Kikuchi (1888-1948). Kikuchi established the publishing company Bungei Shungu and the famous Akutagawa prize for emerging writers.

3.     Τhis is a quotation from The Book of Job.

4.     Jean Genet.

5.     Lines of the poem Les Fiançailles by Guillaume Apollinaire. ― «Il vit decapité, sa tête est le soleil / Et la lune son cou tranché.», (Le dossier d’ “Alcools”, 1913).

6.     Τhis is a quotation from René Daumal (1908-1944).

The Funeral Parade of Roses has been released on DVD by Eureka!/Masters of Cinema (


by Dimitra Ioannou

I am an old boudoir full of withered roses.¹

– You won’t desert me, will you?
– Never.
– Would you please pretend that you don’t lie?
– Don’t talk nonsense!
– Who do you like better, me or Eddie?
– You, of course.
– Would you set on tears if I start to cry?
– You’re exaggerating.
– Never desert me.

At the mercy of black passion.

– Do you like to sing?
– A lot. When I hold the microphone all the world is mine.
– What do you feel when you are singing?
– I am happy. It’s like being transfered to another dimension; like living a Cosmic moment.
– Would you sing something for us?
– Of course.

Would you take me to your arms once again? / We have enough time. / I’ll close my eyes for a while. / Please hold my hand. / Do you hear? The rain makes such strange sounds here. / Would you take me to your arms till I fall asleep? / Yes, together for ever. / Please hold my hand.

Are idylls the opposite of decadence?


“the beauty was never completed in any single detail of the temple: for each detail adumbrated the beauty of the succeeding detail. The beauty of the individual detail itself was always filled with uneasiness. It dreamed of perfection, but it knew no completion and was invariably lured on to the next beauty, the unknown beauty. The adumbration of beauty contained in one detail was linked with the subsequent adumbration of beauty, and so it was that the various adumbrations of a beauty which did not exist had become the underlying motif of the Golden Temple. Such adumbrations were signs of nothingness, nothingness was the very structure of this beauty.”²


At Linda’s apartment. She brings her birthday cake. She puts it on the coffee table and tidies up the room. She wears a wig with white roses.

The energy that exists inside a dream until it is destroyed.

– Welcome home.
– I know what you did.
– I don’t want to loose you.
– Don’t cry. No tears for me. No, thank you. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” What a joke! You’re getting old.
– You’re cruel.
– Your time is over.
– Just like that?

Can you go on without geting some kind of response?

You’re like sweet poison in me. / You’re in my mind and the time is the past. / The reason for my passion is you. / It’s too late for me now. / This hypnotic song takes me away. / Only your voice has the power to wake me up. / Where are you? / Will you let me go away?

No, you can’t.


– Do you like your role?
– A lot. But I’d prefer that Lida doesn’t commit suicide.
– What do you feel when you’re acting?
– I am never so much myself than when I am not myself.


Eddie walks amongst the graves holding a big white rose. Lida’s funeral. The wreath has white roses and a black ribbon.

When, O dusky beauty, you shall rest.³

– Look Eddie! The graves are sinking!
– I wish the whole country would sink.
– The ones that haven’t been washed away by the waters soak. They are all artificial, artificial flowers from the graves!
– I wish the whole country would sink.



1. Charles Baudelaire, “Spleen”, The Flowers of Evil

2. Yukio Mishima, “The temple of the Golden Pavillon”, 1956. Translated by Ivan Morris. Published by Alfred A. Knopf.

3. Charles Baudelaire, “Posthumous Remorse”, The Flowers of Evil.