Balqis

I had yet another test shoot. This photographer hailed from Chalandri and had reached out to my agency while also taking the initiative to contact me through the Infinite Scroll. What intrigued me further was his commitment to planting oak trees. Our meeting took place at Panaghia Kapnikarea.

As he shared stories about Slavic models he had worked with a decade ago, I learned that their trajectories varied significantly. Some had gracefully aged, building careers as biologists or real estate agents. Others had vanished from the industry, adopting new identities. Unfortunately, some had not aged as gracefully and still clung to dreams of luxury, hoping for invitations to lavish destinations. I found myself hoping to avoid falling into the last two categories, refusing to embrace puella aeterna, much like X seemed trapped in puer aeternus.

The Chalandri photographer eloquently described the process of planting oak trees as a humbling, meditative practice because these trees outlive us all. Yet, the fragility of their existence weighed heavily on his mind, knowing that a single spark or careless mistake or Jewish lightning could undo the tireless efforts of nurturing hundreds of trees. This discussion inevitably brought back memories of X, who once affectionately referred to me as his "tall Egyptian palm." The connection drew upon Nizar Qabbani's "tall Iraqi palm," Balqis, who tragically lost her life in Lebanon due to a terrorist bombing. 

I wish X loved me.

Yes indeed the trees outlive us, their silent presence haunting my dreams, which I no longer trust. These dreams, they mock me. X may be a dream killer, but that's alright because dreams perish upon waking. I had a dream on December eighteenth, and another fertility dream on the twenty-third, both about X. I shared these dreams with X, but I doubt they held any significance for him. Dreams, divine providence — I've lost faith in them, yet I'll find my way. The only dream I crave is the one I never have to wake from.

All I wanted was one thing/ I crossed the Pond more than once/ But I had plans to cross the Rubicon/ Serious plans/ If only you knew/ You knew but didn’t care/ That’s what I’ve always wanted to do/ But I never even had a chance/ Please come here &/Close the door &/ Light the match &/ Burn my leaves/ We can waste each other’s time/ The best moments of my life were the ones where I’ve played charades at masquerades &/ The next day Fate pulled the fronds &/ The person I met was gone/ Just come here &/ Take it all/ Two suitcases of clothes &/ A log is all I own/ You saw me as your tall palm/ But I wanted to be your apple tree/ You could have carved an epitaph into my bark &/ Golloped my crop &/ Built a house from my branches &/ A tub from my trunk &/ A stool from my stump/ I just wanted to prove something to you or get sick of you/ We didn’t even get to say Goodbye/ We barely even got to say Hello