From "Il Sorriso Della Meretrice" in Academia
The aperitivo with Astrid had become a metaphysical moment. It was something that transcended our intents beyond our will.
Every Wednesday I waited for her at the Café Strozzi. She was there around 6:30pm, arriving from work.
Each time we decided on a different bar.
-‐ Change is good -‐ I repeated every time almost monotonously Astrid was a photographer. She was from Mexico City.
I did not know much about her to be honest. But each time I discovered a bit of her remote world.
She was divorced. A normal married life until the moment she found out that her husband was gay and had a hermaphrodite lover. She said that Mexico has the highest percentage of hermaphrodites in the world.
She was shocked at that moment. She became depressed and gained twenty-‐six pounds.
-‐ Sometimes I happen to come across the photos from back then ... you know ... I looked like I had aged...like a woman of forty when I was only twenty-‐five...
-‐ I think you have well recovered. You are well now. You are thin and delicate to just the right point. You're beautiful, attractive ...
What I liked talking to Astrid about was her way of taking photographs. She loved to photograph naked women. Their open sexes.
-‐ Are you a lesbian? -‐ I asked her one day
-‐ No, why?
-‐ Well ... the subject of your photographs led me to think that...
-‐ No, I am not a lesbian
She took pictures immediately after intercourses when their vaginas were still warm, moist, vibrant and a little dilated. Open.
-‐ How do you take those photos? -‐ I asked curiously
-‐ They are often self-‐portraits. Sometimes couples of friends or acquaintances ... sometimes ... I mean models, porn actors that I pay ... but generally I prefer real people, not models ... ordinary people in the end ...
-‐ Yes, but I do not understand ...
-‐ You don't understand what?
-‐ I do not understand the meaning of this research. Why do you photograph these subjects? What does it mean for you...this search? ...
Astrid did not answer immediately. she was eating a panino. She took a sip of Vermentino. She smiled. Then she looked straight ahead
-‐ In a sexual act you leave traces ... I want to track down these tracks
-‐ ...?
-‐ I look for that kind of dependency that is generated by a sexual act in both.
-‐ ... ??
-‐ For example ... do you know that receiving sperm into the uterus is a strong act that strengthens the emotional relationship between a man and a woman? which is fine if there is any love between lovers but it causes relational disorders if there is no love between them. Do you know this?
-‐ Who said that?
-‐ American scientific researches ... it is a Neoplatonic vision, in the end, an alchemical exchange of fluids, through contact and rubbing the flesh...
So this is how those days went. This was Astrid. And those meetings with her were so pleasant.
A wet spring was finishing and early summer was at the gates. Outside the café, through the window, I already saw the first girls with short hot pants which highlighted their asses and the shape of the front of their sex.
A bit by attraction and a bit as a joke I wondered what tracks I might find if I could just take off those shorts.
I smiled. Astrid looked at me and smiled back as if she had photographed my thoughts.
The aperitivo with Astrid had become a metaphysical moment. It was something that transcended our intents beyond our will.
Every Wednesday I waited for her at the Café Strozzi. She was there around 6:30pm, arriving from work.
Each time we decided on a different bar.
-‐ Change is good -‐ I repeated every time almost monotonously Astrid was a photographer. She was from Mexico City.
I did not know much about her to be honest. But each time I discovered a bit of her remote world.
She was divorced. A normal married life until the moment she found out that her husband was gay and had a hermaphrodite lover. She said that Mexico has the highest percentage of hermaphrodites in the world.
She was shocked at that moment. She became depressed and gained twenty-‐six pounds.
-‐ Sometimes I happen to come across the photos from back then ... you know ... I looked like I had aged...like a woman of forty when I was only twenty-‐five...
-‐ I think you have well recovered. You are well now. You are thin and delicate to just the right point. You're beautiful, attractive ...
What I liked talking to Astrid about was her way of taking photographs. She loved to photograph naked women. Their open sexes.
-‐ Are you a lesbian? -‐ I asked her one day
-‐ No, why?
-‐ Well ... the subject of your photographs led me to think that...
-‐ No, I am not a lesbian
She took pictures immediately after intercourses when their vaginas were still warm, moist, vibrant and a little dilated. Open.
-‐ How do you take those photos? -‐ I asked curiously
-‐ They are often self-‐portraits. Sometimes couples of friends or acquaintances ... sometimes ... I mean models, porn actors that I pay ... but generally I prefer real people, not models ... ordinary people in the end ...
-‐ Yes, but I do not understand ...
-‐ You don't understand what?
-‐ I do not understand the meaning of this research. Why do you photograph these subjects? What does it mean for you...this search? ...
Astrid did not answer immediately. she was eating a panino. She took a sip of Vermentino. She smiled. Then she looked straight ahead
-‐ In a sexual act you leave traces ... I want to track down these tracks
-‐ ...?
-‐ I look for that kind of dependency that is generated by a sexual act in both.
-‐ ... ??
-‐ For example ... do you know that receiving sperm into the uterus is a strong act that strengthens the emotional relationship between a man and a woman? which is fine if there is any love between lovers but it causes relational disorders if there is no love between them. Do you know this?
-‐ Who said that?
-‐ American scientific researches ... it is a Neoplatonic vision, in the end, an alchemical exchange of fluids, through contact and rubbing the flesh...
So this is how those days went. This was Astrid. And those meetings with her were so pleasant.
A wet spring was finishing and early summer was at the gates. Outside the café, through the window, I already saw the first girls with short hot pants which highlighted their asses and the shape of the front of their sex.
A bit by attraction and a bit as a joke I wondered what tracks I might find if I could just take off those shorts.
I smiled. Astrid looked at me and smiled back as if she had photographed my thoughts.
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