“My tooth is loose;” said Orhan。
151
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。 When he was younger; his body
and his face hadn’t yet settled。 Twelve years later; when I first laid eyes on him
from this dark refuge of mine; I immediately saw that he’d attained a kind of
perfection。
Now; when I bring my eye right up to the hole; I see on his face the worry
that plagues him。 I felt at once guilty and proud that he’d suffered so on my
account。 Black listened to what my father said; gazing upon an illustration
made for the book; with a look pletely innocent and childlike。 Just then;
when I saw that he’d opened his pink mouth as a child would have; I
unexpectedly felt; yes; like putting my breast into it。 With my fingers on his