Collages by Anais Nin

Author:Anais Nin [Nin, Anais]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780720618488
Publisher: Peter Owen Limited
Published: 2004-06-30T14:00:00+00:00

WHEN RENATE AND VARDA MET at Paradise Inn she had been touched by the story of his daughter. Secretly she wished she had had a father who was a magician with colors and who would have told her stories. To please him she wore a cotton dress in colors which recalled the dresses of his women. Her coat was lined with pale stripes of violet, white and green which immediately attracted Varda’s attention. He was as excited by a new combination of tones or materials as other men might be by a new dish, or a new brand of paint. He was always searching for pieces of textiles for his collages. He caressed the lining of Renate’s coat with delight.

To his amazement Renate took a big pair of scissors from the kitchen and before his eyes she cut out a piece big enough to dress one of his abstract women.

Varda spent a few days at the inn. There were many parties given for him. At these parties the two painters dazzled each other like two magicians practicing all their spells and charms upon each other.

But the friendship remained aerial, like two acrobats speaking to each other only when hundreds of feet above the crowd.

Speaking of modern painting Renate said: “So many of them lack taste.”

“What they lack is distaste,” said Varda.

They laughed together, but the distance remained.

One day Varda absorbed some of Henri’s best wine, the one which fermented the highest content ofeloquence, and he confessed to him: “Renate is marvelous.”

“She is marvelous,” echoed Henri. “I’m going to name a dessert after her.”

“She is femme toute faite.”

“Toute faite?”

“Already designed, completed, perfect in every detail.”

“You say this as if it were not a compliment.”

“I only say it regretfully, Henri. For I myself, I need unformed women, unfinished, undesigned women I can mold to my own pattern. I’m an artist. I’m only looking for fragments, remnants which I can co-ordinate in a new way. A woman artist makes her own patterns.”

“A good recipe for other women,” said Henri.

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