Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Thursday, 14 March 2013
Sarah has just posted a video clip of the silent meeting between two artists who used to be lovers, conducted in front of an audience who had come to see the one whose show it was, and who did not know he was turning up until she opened her eyes. I'm sure I could have put this better, but I'm still feeling bloody ill and words are not coming easy this morning. This is what I am talking about: CLIP
After I had wiped the tear from my eye, I thought how much more amusing it would have been if she had not recognised him, but - like I say - I'm not thinking straight today.
The clip reminded me of that scene where Natasha Kinski performs behind a one-way mirror in the film, 'Paris, Texas', and explains why she abandoned whatshisface with their child - but with a lot more words. I can't watch that scene without blubbing either.
There is a rare condition whereby the unfortunate sufferer cannot recall faces - even their spouse's - after not looking at them for a couple of minutes. They have little tricks they employ with their families, like persuading them not to change hairstyles or clothing without advance warning, and in this way they seem to manage at home reasonably well.
I heard one woman sufferer recently who - amazingly - managed to hold down her job as a solicitor, but would cut her best friend dead in the street on her way to work. Also amazingly, she had managed to keep her condition secret to all but her immediate family.
I was once having tea in an outside cafe, chatting with a man who - as it turned out - was a super-famous celebrity, but I didn't recognise him until passers-by began to ogle and stare. He must have found my unselfconscious conversation refreshingly different.