(CommunityMatters) oh my . . . Steven tells this story from our early days. We were having breakfast one morning at Chipolina’s in Clarksville. We were seated inside when up drives this long white vintage Cadillac. Out of it float an older man and an elegant woman (one doesn’t refer to women as old) both dressed in white silks, the woman carrying a white poodle. They enter the store and purchase a bottle of champagne and two croissants. They take their purchases outside, pour champagne and light up cigarettes. I’m mesmerized. I remember Steven looking at me and shaking his head. I asked what’s wrong. He continued shaking his head and just said, “oh no . . . why do I feel like I am watching the future you.”
In a shrinking world, Tangier is a place where eccentricity is celebrated, where fiscal nomads and expatriates thrive in the midday sun, where light filters through the palms and makes an atmosphere of dreaming.
When Matisse came to the city in the winter of 1912 . . . . He was astonished by the colors and the “decorative force” that came out with the sun, painting . . . . the famous “La Fenêtre à Tanger,”
“It’s not really necessary to like your friends in Tangier,”
“Tangier is still unique,because it’s neither West nor East. It’s a tiny point where all these things meet and give it this strange magic.”