away.God is timeless! whispered an inner voice.She shrugged. I know that they show a timeless God, I am no longer looking for the all-pervasive God.She rose <strong>and</strong> went along the walls scrutinizing the paintings up close, as if she expected to find the answer to her puzzlein their detail. The magnificence of the chiseled gold ground, the intensity of the egg-based colors! But then the distortedfaces, the horrifying scenes of martyrdom in the fringe stories of the saints stared at her—you are too close!What you are searching for is in your own mind not in these panels.If not God, was time the key to her conundrum?She chose time as the center of her meditation.She walked into the room of the early Renaissance. Here God was no longer the overriding subject. The Virgin <strong>and</strong> thesaints had been reduced to ordinary human beings with emotions <strong>and</strong> earthly bodies. The Christ child sucked his fingers.The saints, clutching thick volumes, faced the beholder with dark questions in their eyes. Are you a sinner? Repent <strong>and</strong>we offer you salvation.She gently pushed them aside. What had happened to time?Her favorite Giorgione in Venice appeared to her. Here time stood still, was defined quite precisely. One could tell thehour of the day: it was late afternoon. The baby was hungry, his mother was feeding him when his father returned. Fiveyears ago she had not noticed that. She smiled, Otto had taught her that.Fleetingly the picture of Otto’s birth passed her mind, but Botticelli’s Primavera a few steps further overwhelmed hermeditation by its elusive beauty, <strong>and</strong> she discarded the fireworks of Otto’s birth.She took a step back <strong>and</strong> sank her eyes into the painting. The ravishing beauty of Botticelli’s women made her dizzy,threatened to drown her. Almost bashful, she lowered her eyes, <strong>and</strong> her inner voice said, they are caught in fluid time.She tried to rescue herself along Walter’s perspective lines <strong>and</strong> discovered that the painting had three different vanishingpoints. And they seemed to move as she moved. As puzzled as years ago she had the feeling that an unseen heathenGod watched her from behind the painting. Only this time there seemed to be three.She walked back to her bench, sat down, <strong>and</strong> closed her eyes.A picture of Easter at Zedazeni rose. She heard <strong>Konrad</strong>’s voice. "In Arcadia Pausanias found a horrifying female trinity:Demeter, Kore, <strong>and</strong> Yakkhos".She shuddered. Drunk Persephone floated by."The Gods behind the painting are female."She focused her mind on the center of her meditation. And in the next image her inner voice insisted, "Your time is fluidtoo".The vision of Otto’s birth passed by a second time, <strong>and</strong> resisted her attempt to discard it."Your time is circula,: lunar cycles of birth, love, <strong>and</strong> death."Her intensity ebbed away, the images stopped coming. She put her chin into her h<strong>and</strong> <strong>and</strong> with blind eyes stared at thetimeless gold surfaces of the Byzantines.She had opened a P<strong>and</strong>ora’s box of paradoxes.<strong>Konrad</strong> found her, sitting lost among the glowing panels of the Primitives. "What happened to you?" he asked surprised."You are still here, at the place I left you!""I am afraid I can’t explain it. I lost all time."35.Alex<strong>and</strong>ra's Time1905"Friedrich," said Alex<strong>and</strong>ra at night, "a few weeks ago I overheard you discuss a new theory with Niko that postulates afour-dimensional world. I had a curious experience in the Uffizi today which I will try to explain later provided I can clearmy confused mind. It would help me, if you could describe that theory."They were having coffee after dinner."You ask for an explanation of the latest ideas in physics. Are you sure you want to hear these esoteric speculations?What happened to you? The theory of Relativity in the Uffizi? You are not trying to goad me into a theosophicaldiscussion?"Alex<strong>and</strong>ra wrinkled her brows. "Don’t mock me, you know that I pay no heed to the theosophists. No, I am serious, myquestion has to do with the concept of time <strong>and</strong> with what will happen to our thinking in the future, after we have114
exhausted the Renaissance idea of banning a three-dimensional world on a flat canvas."Friedrich mumbled that theoretical physics was comprehensible only to the initiated. "The essence of time is the deepersubstance of this theory, but in the very limited sense of theoretical physics, it will not affect you or me in our daily lives."She refused to give in. "Let’s see about that later. Is this theory so complex that you could not put its central ideas into afew simple sentences?"Friedrich cocked his head <strong>and</strong> smiled condescendingly. "A year ago a certain Albert Einstein, whom nobody had everheard of, published a paper in a respectable journal in which he postulated that the movement of the stars takes place ina four-dimensional world, the fourth dimension being time."He paused looking at Alex<strong>and</strong>ra full of doubts. "This would not be so revolutionary, if Einstein had not shown that thelengths of the spatial <strong>and</strong> temporal coordinates shrink depending on how fast the earth—or another celestial body—moves. If the body moves very slowly, time exp<strong>and</strong>s to infinity, but if the body flies at high speeds time shrinks, until nearthe speed of light it becomes exceedingly short, <strong>and</strong> the body explodes in a flash of light, x-rays, or other electromagneticradiation. We don’t really underst<strong>and</strong> yet what that means, but Einstein could explain some very subtle changes in themovement of the planets, which the old Newtonian physics could not."He looked expectantly at Alex<strong>and</strong>ra. "Does that help you in any way?""If I am honest, it does not—except that it encourages me to tell you what moves me since this morning. Apparently youphysicists are also contemplating how to exp<strong>and</strong> our vision beyond the confined concept of three dimensions <strong>and</strong> a lineartime."She smiled challenging at Walter, who was absentmindedly lost in his own thoughts."As I walked through the galleries of the pre-Renaissance today I was caught by the early Byzantine panels. Puzzled Isat in that room <strong>and</strong> asked what these painters knew that I did not know. An inner voice said, ‘God is timeless.’"She shrugged. "I am no longer searching for God, but last night, thinking about this subconscious message, anotherquestion came to my mind. Did they conceive of God as infinite <strong>and</strong> time st<strong>and</strong>ing still, or was He seen as a single pointwith time exp<strong>and</strong>ing to infinity? In both cases time could be non-finite."Walter stirred from his private preoccupation <strong>and</strong> said animatedly. "Alex<strong>and</strong>ra, I don’t know what the Scholastics taught, Iam not a theologian, but this idea is very much alive in Islamic art. Moslems, like Jews, are forbidden to makeanthropomorphic representations of God—you know, a gr<strong>and</strong>father with a long beard. So their Sufi mystics invented anabstract image of God. In their mosques God is represented by a single point in the center of the dome."He began to laugh. "Forgive me, this conversation is very serious, but speaking of the Christian God, Michelangelo’sgr<strong>and</strong>est joke comes to my mind. You have never been in Rome <strong>and</strong> seen the Sistine Chapel, but you have surely seenreproductions of its ceiling: God creating Adam, stars, the sun, <strong>and</strong> moon, etc. Well, after finishing all this work God fliesoff, his crimson robe fluttering in the draft, <strong>and</strong> right above the Papal altar you see him vanish into the clouds—with anaked derrière pointing towards his lousy Creation! With your permission, according to the great Michelangelo, God hasa fat ass <strong>and</strong> wears no underpants!"Walter laughed <strong>and</strong> laughed. "Well, you see, such subtle insights are forbidden to Jews <strong>and</strong> Moslems." Still cackling, heshuffled out to get some wine. "Alex<strong>and</strong>ra wait for me, I am very curious what you are getting at, I still have no clue whatit is.""You are not going to try to introduce God into Einstein’s Theory of Relativity?" mocked Friedrich when Walter had gone."If that is on your mind, I will go to bed!"Annoyed Alex<strong>and</strong>ra said with a sharp voice. "No, I told you, I have no intention to argue physics. I leave that to you."Walter poured wine for everyone. "Let’s hear your theory."She touched her lips with her folded h<strong>and</strong>s concentrating on finding her thread again. "Walter, I don’t have a theory, but Ihad a string of visions which cry for one. Having no immediate need for God, I turned my attention to the role of time inpainting."She unfolded her h<strong>and</strong>s <strong>and</strong> quickly glanced at <strong>Konrad</strong> for emotional support. "It must seem obvious to you, Walter,since the Renaissance time st<strong>and</strong>s still in painting. All action is frozen at the moment the painter has chosen. In somepaintings this moment is very precisely defined <strong>and</strong> gives the painting a very special meaning. I am thinking of LaTempesta, my favorite Giorgione, there it is five in the afternoon. The woman is feeding her hungry child when his fatherreturns, the storm is receding. Maybe only a woman who has nursed a child sees that, but Giorgione’s choice of the lateafternoon generates the tranquility that pervades this painting."Walter nodded. "Maybe only a woman can underst<strong>and</strong> this Giorgione. When we first met on the train from Venice I toldyou that you have a privileged insight into this painting."She smiled. "Let me continue the description of my adventures in the Uffizi. Still asking my question, what role time playsin Renaissance painting, I l<strong>and</strong>ed before Botticelli’s Primavera. Walter, do you remember our conversation before thismysterious painting? This time I stared at Primavera with such intensity that I would have drowned in the beauty of itswomen had I not wrenched myself out of their spell. Trying to hold onto your elusive geometrical lines for support, Idiscovered that the painting has three vanishing points! They shift as you slowly walk past the picture. Very uncanny!"Walter admitted that he had not noticed that. But there were other Renaissance paintings that had more than one115
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Table of Contents1. My Grandfather'
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1.My Grandfather's Watch among the
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ditch beside the road.Mother was tr
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Deep snow still covered Djvari Pass
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"But you know nothing about how to
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newborn baby! You won’t need a ba
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Dadiani bent over the table, reache
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Autumn had come to Georgia, and it
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"Gespenstisch!" whispered Mouravi t
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Finally, depressed by his inability
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They slowly rode up the hill north
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On their way back to the Lavra Alex
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Blushing like a young girl, she gav
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Alexandra bowed deeply to a middle-
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All applauded and Ilia made a small
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She had done her hair up in a new w
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ape her. But then he must die, and
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a rear door when she entered.If Per
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Alexandra went purple with embarras
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The smell of roasting lamb wafted t
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Konrad quietly sat back. To his gre
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The tall, dark-haired woman began w
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She kissed him."Maybe you dream of
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14.Tuscany - the Wolfsons' House in
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ut are, unjustly, much more famous.
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Alexandra had fallen into melanchol
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She kissed him tenderly. "Niko, I a
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obligations, and she, ever since th
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months, was flooded with the diffus
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could they be aroused into communal
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survived the Bolsheviks, the Fascis
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physically overwhelm her. Despite h
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Konrad picked up Alexandra at the t
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Abruptly her vision had narrowed, a
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the Kwadjagani, the Masters of Wisd
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somewhat, his back was still bent,
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century. The characteristic Chinese
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Alexandra was relieved and happy, a
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subconscious past her observant min
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Dahl leaned back in surprise. "This
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visions reappear. Entire armies mar
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"This method is not easy, I have ne
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He had started with representationa
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His hair had turned completely whit
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Overnight the mood in St. Petersbur
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daughter. His wife had left him no
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which was presented to him—with a
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"From the soldiers whom I took care
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He watched Alexandra’s doubting m
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lond, bony girl whose gray eyes loo
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call it intellectual humanism. It d
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time I asked this question I had me
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"I spent most of the winter of 1918
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We buried him in the cemetery at G
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ways. Corruption became the way of
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68.A Concert in Kreuth - Eliso1989I
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Eliso listened with increasing fasc