C.R. lived at that time in San Francisco. She wasn’t a projection of the past. I’ve got to know her short before Christmas in Florence at the Biennalè. We both exhibited there, and were staying at the same two** hotel. She talked to me already on the very first day. She just drunk coffee and ate one orange for breakfest. She had this erotically smoky voice, and those certain two dimples around her lips, to them I am attracted by women so much. She spoke English only, and she had a lot to say. Although at that time (now, eleven years ago) I didn’t speak her language yet, I had the feeling, to understand her completely. The language had no meaning, we communicated with each other on a quite different level. I enjoyed every moment of her presence and felt her attractiveness. She was ten years older than me, already fourtyfive, though a very pretty Canadian Jewish woman. We spent ten unforgottable days together. I delayed my departure day by day, the strike of the Italian railroder came more than welcome to me. It was so hard to say goodbye to her.. I wanted more, even more to experience with her, and I believed strongly in saying to myself, that it was only a friendship I was interested in. However, on the last day, in front of the Uffizi, as our lips met in a one long never-want-to-quit kiss, I have totally forgotten, what I wanted, or don’t wanted. During the night I couldn’t sleep at all, her kiss burned on my lips still, I just could think of her, and used the time of the dark night to write her my very first love letter. As already mentioned, I didn’t speak any English at that time, but the love I felt was showing me the words I was searching for. I left the letter at the reception early in the morning, as I finally left Florence with a heavy heart and heavy suitcases. Hardly arrived at home again, I started to play her favorite song from Nick Cave. During the song played nonstop, I stared hours long, days long, weeks, actually months long at a picture of her, which was made at our last dinner. When I looked at her, my breath caught, she and her features were set full with mistery. Her mystical smile and her sparkling green-blue eyes accompanied with the overwhelming heartbreaking lyric and melody had only one effect. Like an obsessed fetishist, I falled madly in love with a picture.
NICK CAVE • THE SHIP SONG