mis(sed)communiqué

A week or so ago, I saw some papers scattered in the street. As a teacher, I’m always eagle-eyed for σκονάκια (cheat sheets): these papers had the characteristically condensed wordage, no white or wasted space, and not one word that seemed desultory or disposable. I picked one up. I love to see what the kids are studying. It wasn’t what I thought.


(click thumbnails to see details)

I was red-haired. I had nice teeth, and a thousand. I can make out quite a few words, but none of them make any sense. There are many misspellings and no punctuation of any kind. The name that traverses the photo, at least, seems to be Anna Raptaki.


(actual paper size 10x10 cm, approx.)

I thought they were photocopies, some kind of self-promotion -- an ad for her art, perhaps, or a cry for help (“I’m a Serb with four sick children...”). I tried for a long time to make heads or tails of it. What at first glance seemed so orderly and controlled is actually impenetrable, indecipherable. Again, it wasn’t what I thought.



I picked up one more on some other street. I realized then that they were not photocopies; each one is hand-written and hand-cut, meticulously, obsessively, but not exactly unique. Some of the ravings that appear on the one appear on the other.



I can’t understand much about this woman: who she is, what she wants, the exact nature of her communication. I find myself increasingly awed by her, touched, and disturbed.