|
René Magritte Carte Blanche (1965) |
"It was then that he saw his mother
- or what he would later, in his dreams, call his mother - slipping in and
out among the pines on the opposite side of the stream as he had sometimes
done in playful moments during their happy summer, making a game of it. Her
form appeared and disappeared, multiplied, and then reduced to itself. The
moon was a huge ball thrown by her into the sky (...).
As he approached she withdrew behind the cedars and spruce where the thick black erased her." (p. 158) |
