It’s the smell of a walk through Old Havana in the evening, from the Hotel Sevilla to the Caseon del Tango for a dance lesson with Ketty and Felix. Wafts of coffee and tobacco, sweet, sugary desserts cooked with baskets of oranges and mangoes. The scent of peaches beginning to turn overripe, and citrus peel going squishy in the gutter. From a dark doorway a handsome man in white whispers, “Do you want a Cuban boyfriend?” and I speed up a little, squeaking “No! Thankyou very much for asking all the same!” And then the old Cubanos at the tango club greet us with smiles, songs, rum and kisses.
The sense of pained profound love. Contrasting feelings like pain and pleasure, faith and fear. Sweetness and bitterness, warmth and danger, softness and extreme loneliness. A love similar to a religious experience full of devotion and suffering. Love as an addiction. Sometimes an impossible love, maybe an unrequited love.
This troubled woman in love is very attractive as she displays all her doubts and vulnerability; she wears it on her skin. In her fragility lies devotion and enormous strength. We wish to be him, but we may not wish to be her, her desire however is irresistible.
The sense of veiled love, the love of lovers. A love full of passion, lightness, as it carries no responsibility. It’s the meeting between a mistress, maybe a courtesan, and her gentleman. Love as a gesture. In order to live this folly majestically, one needs elegance and character, secrecy is a value.
This woman lover is very attractive as she is a complete mystery, she is not yours nor do you know to whom she belongs. She’s seems to be untouchable and free. We wish to be her as we wish to be him.