The Woman With the Bouquet
“The first time we met, she merely seemed a fragile, discreet woman, with neither depth nor conversation, so banal you’d think her doomed to oblivion. And yet, because one day I touched upon her reality, she will never cease to haunt me: intriguing, imperious, brilliant, paradoxical, inexhaustible, she has caught me for all eternity in the web of her charm.
Certain women are traps into which you fall. Sometimes you do not want to get out of those traps. Emma Van A. has ensnared me.
It ...all began during a timid, cool month of March, in Ostend.
I had always dreamt about Ostend.
When I travel, names lure me before places do. Standing higher than steeples, words ring out from afar, easily heard thousands of miles away, sending sounds that suggest images.
Ostend . . .
Consonants and vowels draw a map, build walls, specify an atmosphere. When a small town wears the name of a saint, my fantasy constructs it around its church; the moment the word evokes a forest—Boisfort—or fields—Champigny—green invades the narrow streets; if a certain material is referred to—Pierrefonds—my mind scratches against the rough casting in order to exalt the stone; and if it evokes a miracle—Dieulefit—then I imagine a city clinging to a rugged peak, overlooking the countryside.MoreLess
Certain women are traps into which you fall. Sometimes you do not want to get out of those traps. Emma Van A. has ensnared me.
It ...all began during a timid, cool month of March, in Ostend.
I had always dreamt about Ostend.
When I travel, names lure me before places do. Standing higher than steeples, words ring out from afar, easily heard thousands of miles away, sending sounds that suggest images.
Ostend . . .
Consonants and vowels draw a map, build walls, specify an atmosphere. When a small town wears the name of a saint, my fantasy constructs it around its church; the moment the word evokes a forest—Boisfort—or fields—Champigny—green invades the narrow streets; if a certain material is referred to—Pierrefonds—my mind scratches against the rough casting in order to exalt the stone; and if it evokes a miracle—Dieulefit—then I imagine a city clinging to a rugged peak, overlooking the countryside.MoreLess
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