I must admit this story is a bit embarrassing to relate to strangers and family alike. Relate it I must, however, to make the argument of this post. Today I managed to park my car on top of a massive brick, somehow, thanks to my stubbornness. Sometimes I am very very stubborn, and today I paid dearly for this bad composition of character.

I really wanted to park in that place and so I ignored the noise coming from under the car and just settled on top of the humungous brick. When I got back to the car after running some errands, I discovered that the brick had settled precisely in the middle of the car’s lower body, and that the car would not budge.

What to do, what to do…

I resolved to try to move the car a bit with all its might, so the brick would sort of move out of the way. Then the noise returned, obviously, and a man came running to me, yelling at me to stop moving the car. I stopped, and got out of the car, and looked at him. He scanned the situation under the car and judged it very, very grave. He then reproached me (a total stranger, remember) and confessed he “cannot understand how I did not see the brick when I parked.”

I couldn’t help but notice a big, old, green heart-shaped tattoo on his left arm. There was an arrow piercing through the heart, too. I paced around Havana Brown, expecting some miracle to deliver her and/or an announcement from the stranger that he can do nothing to help.

But fear not. My anonymous tattooed chevalier asked for a jack and I exclaimed that I “think I have one somewhere in the trunk,” to which he responded by asking me to open the trunk. Then my savoir fetched the jack and lifted Havana up, up, up — so much up that I thought she would fall on him and kill him once the brick is removed.

I was silent the whole time. There was nothing for me to say, really. The anonymous helper called for his friend from time to time and they referred to me in the third person, never talking to me in my face. Of course, this was no time to pull any feminist stunts, so I remained silent.

This good person stayed with me for fifteen minutes and saved Havana Brown. I was, and still am, amazed at the goodness of his spirit. I know I could not have done much about the situation, since I tried moving another brick (which was not stuck under anything) and I couldn’t. Sometimes you just have to have muscles, and not a brain, to do things.

In conclusion, this is one instant where I am indebted to my patriarchal society. I did not even have to ask for help, help came running to me, and stayed with me until I was OK.

In the car on my way home today I was truly inspired. The weather was beautiful, the sun not too hot, and the wind warm to a perfect degree. I wished I had my laptop with me right then and there to record what I was feeling.

All of a sudden I wanted to e-mail a long-gone intimate, and I wanted to write some five articles all at once. I saw the articles forming in my mind’s eye, and I knew exactly what to say and how to say it.

I wanted to say things that had been bottled up way deep in my head that I never could really fathom them, but in a moment of clarity I knew precisely what they were and I was able to physically feel them. It was almost orgasmic.

The minute I arrived home, I found the place dark and cold. The sun outside was still warming the garden and the veranda, the cacti seemed to bathe in its warmth without a worry in the world. The house, in contrast, was frozen and still.

I had to remain inside for ten minutes to change and arrange my things. By the time I came out again, the heat from the sun was gone. My cold room absorbed that tranquil warmth and my limbs, due to my poor blood circulation, stiffened and turned cold.

When I rushed outside the sun had fainted. The warmth was no longer there and it was replaced by a slow, steady, cool wind. Everything basked in the shade and I kept searching for a patch of light to rest in, in the garden and in the veranda, to no avail.

I also lost my muse. She’s too illusive in the cold.

The Italian Embassy in Amman is organizing a major photography exhibition from March 15-29, 2007 at the National Gallery of Fine Arts. The exhibition is titled “Italy. The One and Only – A Century of Photography 1900-2000.”

I received the following press release from the cultural bureau (grazie a M.L.I) and, of course, I will visit the exhibition:

ITALY. THE ONE AND ONLY – A Century of Photography 1900–2000

The opening will be on March 15 2007 at 6 pm and will run until March 29 (opening hours: 9 am-5 pm). A representative of the Italian archive, Dr. Sesti will attend the opening of the exhibition be ready to provide further details on the event.