It seemed as if the whole of the world was slowly being stripped of innocence. Or maybe I was seeing a little too clearly.
Patti SmithPatti, did art get us?'
I looked away, not really wanting to think about it. 'I don't know, Robert. I don't know.'
Perhaps it did, but no one could regret that. Only a fool would regret being had by art; or a saint.
Annem bana dua etmeyi öğretti, ona da kendi annesinin öğrettiği bir duaydı bu: Şimdi uykuya yatıyorum. Ruhumu koruması için İsa'ya dua ediyorum. Geceleri, ben küçük yatağımın yanında diz çöküp onun sözlerini tekrarlarken, o da ağzından hiç düşürmediği sigarası ile yanı başımda ayakta bekler, beni dinlerdi. Tek dileğim dua etmekti ama sözleri kafamı karıştırırdı ve annemi soru yağmuruna tutardım. Ruh nedir? Ne renktir? Çok yaramaz olduğu için ruhumun ben uyurken gizlice kaçıp sonra da geri dönmeyeceğinden korkuyordum. Uyuyakalmamak için elimden geleni yapardım; böylece ruhumu ait olduğu yerde içimde tutacaktım.
Patti SmithWe were walking toward the fountain, the epicenter of activity, when an older couple stopped and openly observed us. Robert enjoyed being noticed, and he affectionately squeezed my hand.
"oh, take their picture," said the woman to her bemused husband, "I think they're artists."
"Oh, go on," he shrugged. "They're just kids.
What is the soul? What color is it? I suspected my soul, being mischievous, might slip away while I was dreaming and fail to return. I did my best not to fall asleep, to keep it inside of me where it belonged.
Patti SmithHe wasn't certain whether he was a good or bad person. Whether he was altruistic. Whether he was demonic. But he was certain of one thing. He was an artist. And for that he would never apologize.
Patti SmithWe wanted, it seemed, what we already had, a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet be free.
Patti SmithI understood that what matters is the work: the string of words propelled by God becoming a poem, the weave of color and graphite scrawled upon the sheet that magnifies His motion. To achieve within the work a perfect balance of faith and execution. From this state of mind comes a light, life-changed.
Patti SmithThe light poured through the windows upon his photographs and the poem of us sitting together a last time. Robert dying: creating silence. Myself, destined to live, listening closely to a silence that would take a lifetime to express.
Patti SmithI imagined a lot of things. That I would shine. That I'd be good. I'd dwell bareheaded on a summit turning a wheel that would turn the earth undetected, amongst the clouds, I would have some influence; be of some avail.
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