Postcard From G.A.M.
My tour guide Pindar told me he could get me in to see Medusa.
I thought that was rather intense, even in this burg; I was a little apprehensive.
Medusa—beautiful monster, beauty who came to be monstrous, symbol of the rage of Woman for being persecuted for being Woman, ultimate talisman.
It was late evening on an eerie side street —we entered a mysterious looking bathhouse
and there she was.
and there she was.
I did not see rage, only a profound depth of emotion.
I looked her in the eyes. What I perceived was the antithesis of nihilism.
Still, I turned to stone.
Missive G.A.M. cc
Wet oshepkov
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