I'm Trying to Reach You. Barbara Browning
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i want to know more…Please…!” To which Phmerz responded that great art couldn’t be reduced to a single sentiment (true).
And then, on July 11, I spotted him. It was that creepy quothballetcarper again! He was commenting on the Água video. “Nice, Pina, very elagant, good job! Quick exit to! Need a samba lesson though, hatchatchatcha.” The guy was really pissing me off. “Quick exit”? Was that any way to be talking about the catastrophe of her untimely death? And what kind of moment was this to be carping about Pina’s samba, as though this were some kind of folklore show? Despite my own mixed feelings about her geographically framed pieces, I hardly thought we should be getting nit-picky about the authenticity of her dancers’ footwork. falserebelmoth, however, had immediately made one of her stinging comebacks: “The Mighty Merchant sneered – Brazil? He twirled a Button…” Hm. That was eccentric. But there was a note of hostility, or at least of challenge – now I was sure of it.
I can’t deny the small thrill I felt at seeing the moth’s rebelliousness. Still, I was also having a vague sense of foreboding. She hadn’t seen that look in his eye in Zagreb. There were those comments he’d made about the axe… And wasn’t it a little suspect that he kept on popping up just at the moment a brilliant dancer had died? MJ, the vids, now Pina…
Furthermore, I kept thinking about that tiny tennis racquet. During that visit in April, Sven and I had also watched Dial M for Murder and Strangers on a Train. What is it with tennis pros and murder?
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