第34部分(第1/7 页)
“My tooth is loose;” said Orhan。
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At the same time; another part of my mind was concentrating on what was
transpiring between my father and Black。
The blue door of the workshop was open; and I could easily hear them:
“After beholding the portraits of the Veian masters; we realize with
horror;” said my father; “that; in painting; eyes can no longer simply be holes
in a face; always the same; but must be just like our own eyes; which reflect
light like a mirror and absorb it like a well。 Lips can no longer be a crack in the
middle of faces flat as paper; but must be nodes of expression—each a
different shade of red—fully expressing our joys; sorrows and spirits with their
slightest contraction or relaxation。 Our noses can no longer be a kind of wall
that divides our faces; but rather; living and curious instruments with a form
unique to each of us。”
Was Black as surprised as I was that my father referred to those infidel
gentlemen who had their pictures made as “we”? When I looked through the
peephole; I found Black’s face to be so pale that I was momentarily alarmed。
My dark beloved; my troubled hero; were you unable to sleep for thinking of
me the whole night? Is that why the blush has left your face?
Perhaps you aren’t aware that Black is a tall; thin and handsome man。 He
has a broad forehead; almond…shaped eyes and a strong; straight; elegant nose。
As in his childhood; his hands are long and thin and his fingers are jittery and
agile。 He’s wiry; and stands straight and tall; with shoulders on the broad side;
but not as broad as those of a water carrier。 Wh