Passionate about non-human life, he reached the opinion that the evidence for the presence of God was to be found in the still-warm form of a hare, a hollow in the turf which still resonates with the creature’s presence after it has gone. Thomas’s long life he struggled with his relationship to God, enduring long, doubt-filled periods spiked with surges of belief.
#TAGIT SPACES HOW TO#
Is this a definition of how to live well on this earth, that it should be able to erase our tracks with one breath?ĭuring R.S. Within seconds the footprints had disappeared. As I traced the line up to the dune’s crest a breeze started up. All that remains of my Sahara journey is an old French Michelin map and a line, as thin as my footsteps, that I drew in biro, linking the names Taghit, Timimoun, Adrar, El Golea.Īnother thing I remember, waking one morning to see a track crossing the sand in front of my tent, tiny indentations, footprints of some four, six or eight-legged thing which had skittered across the dunes in the night. One feels it in the sky, in the stones, in the air.” I didn’t write any letters home and I took no photographs. While holed up in a room during a 3 day sandstorm with only his parrot for company he wrote of the Sahara: “It is a great stretch of earth where climate reigns supreme and every gesture one makes is in conscious defence from, or propitiation to the climatic conditions. It was how I felt about myself in my twenties. What drew me to it was the way the characters seemed to carry spaces inside them as vast as the landscape they were lost inside. These days its Tranströmer’s Half-Finished Heaven, but back then it was Bowles’s Sheltering Sky. I’ve always carried a book with me as a kind of totem. I was following the 1947 journey of one of my heroes, Paul Bowles. And in the ditches there were shoals of tiny, silver fish.
There were tall palm trees, vegetables growing in beds surrounded by irrigation ditches. When they passed, they did not acknowledge us at all.
They rode camels and carried swords and rifles. I remember how the desert engulfed the town, dust blowing down narrow streets, gathering and drifting in doorways.
#TAGIT SPACES SKIN#
And dunes the colour of tanned skin – their perfect, female contours. I remember that the sand whispered and sound carried for miles.
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