The Constorium of Greater Minds

lady in red, wonderful apparition, lady in red. Through narrow marbled streets, shoulder to shoulder with the italian, with the german, with the greek. Lady in red. Red summer dress, red summer dress. blood red sunset and opal night sky. Busy streets, streets filled with life. Life, mad, laughing, wild and drunk, silly and naïve, life and youth exposed. Naïve youth exposed. Mediterranean breeze, give to me your secrets Mediterranean breeze whisper into my ear sweet frivolity, sweet lady in red. Once shrouded behind a curtain of blackest night, now exposed in crimson fury. a passion and a lust for life. A lust, a lust, I lust, I lust. Soft sand beneath delicate fingers, lips of fire and eyes of brilliant starlight the reflection of the ocean in a lingering glance. spirit rising to the heavens in a shroud of ardor and smoke. Summer rising to the heavens above. Summer but a dream, not but a memory of a lady in red, opal sky, sweet salt of the ocean, sweet paradise isle ushering forth to the heavens. Capture my body and soul for a fleeting instant a fiery flash in eros eye. Lady in red in blissful reverie in dancing, in wine, in song and in colloquy. Red summer dress, red summer dress. a lady in red.

so this piece is about a girl i met in bodrum, turkey summer of ‘06. she was staying at the hostel my friends and i were crashing at. we got to talking the day after she arrived. she was from kazakhstan and worked for Harpers Bazaar as a photographer and layout designer. her name was helena and i still carry her business card around in my wallet. anyway, my last night in town with a 0430 bus to catch to the airport we went out into town together. she wore this short red summer dress and deep red lipstick to match. she knocked me out. she was so fashionable and gorgeous, her skin was a wonderful honey coloured brown. we spent the night dancing, sitting on the beach smoking hookah, drinking and talking as two people instantly attracted to one another but both awake to the impossibility of the situation do. i wont say how it ended – have to leave something up to the imagination, but our brief relationship effected me as so many like it have and will continue to. such episodes are one of the sweetest joys of travel. peace

The sun – rose, and moon – lily, high in the sky and shimmering all the while. It was a warm type of summer night and quite wide too. The waves crashing and smashing and hissing on the rocks far below the ornate railing where we stood looking out over the Dalmatian Coast. Seagulls gliding overhead gave hungry cries that reverberated off the cliff face. If I were to paint a picture of this place with words it would consist of warm reds and oranges and deep blues with specks of silver; a hauntingly romantic pallet with a hint of forever.
Yes, dear?
It was a pleasant walk from the hostel into town. We passed the bars with their Australians and gin and tonics and light jazz, down the steep walkway wedged between the road and one thousand feet of vertical rock; breathtaking beauty. We stopped to peer into enchanting courtyards covered in shadow and cut off from the world by giant, black iron rot fences. They melted into the darkness, the grey cement stone walls covered in vines, covered in vines.
I said I never want to leave, my love.
On down past the giant hotel, a skeleton in its remodeling stages destined to house the hundreds who would later infest the place with their drunken discourse and their sober ignorance.

I remember a night in July. A warm night with a soft breeze that danced on the quiet procession and recession of the tide; it made the night fresh and captured the details of our meandering conversation and sent them to intertwine with the smoke above our heads where it followed a course gently out to sea. Helena sat leaning against a pillow set out on the beach front, legs stretched out before her.