I set the camera back on the tripod to return to my place as part of the play. Camille was hanging almost without moving, but sensing that I was approaching her, she began to move. I could tell by the way her body was moving that we were nearing the end of her patience and good will. I believe that she could still resist more, but I didn't want to push my luck. It had been a while since we started and she was probably tired, very tired and with a lot of pain, specially in her wrists

I stood for a moment, thinking of the next move. My exploration of her body in pain had been very intense, it took me outside of me and it confirmed what I was feeling deep inside. Not unlike what I felt and feel for Margot. What had started the summer of 1986 in Szeged, had ended in La Paz. Something new was beginning now, almost a year after Margot and I had decided to end part of our relationship. We knew we would never part ways as other couples do. We were bound to be together forever because we always were.

But now there was some new fire growing in me and it was shacking me to the core. I was scare shitless, I was afraid of this beautiful young woman hanging in front of me, powerfully helpless.

Camille pushed herself letting out a cry of pain. She concerned me for a moment. Her face was showing the terrible feeling she was screaming out. I was afraid I had hurt her. I thought that I let her hang for too long. I was counting on her to let me know that she had had enough, and she never did until this moment when she let out a painful cry.

I was about to ask how she was feeling when she continued her cry of pain. I began to have doubts. Was she going through a real experience? or was this part of her performance? I was no longer sure, it was too real for comfort and yet, so dramatic that it had to be part of her performance. I hesitated.

I stood frozen, watching her move slowly, raising her head to start lowering it again. She was performing an old fantasy of mine, the dancing on the cross, the struggle for air, the instinct of preservation, the fight to release the painful pressure on her wrists. All too real and yet all very well "choreographed."

I had tried one crucifixion with Margot in our South Street Seaport duplex in Manhattan in 1991, five years after we met in Szeged. After we parted ways at the Budapest train station I went to New York via Montreal, where I visited a Peruvian friend.for a few days. I told him about meeting Margot, the romantic and wild experience in Szeged. I got drunk while telling him of my sorrow. After unloading my emotions to my friend and concluding my business in Montreal, I returned to NY to move on with my life, I had a film to finish and hopefully another to start.

But I couldn't get Margot out of my head. In 1988 I was going to the Cannes Film Festival to present my new film. I had a very exciting time in the festival, I met Francoise, one of the best lovers I ever had, I travelled to Italy to sell the film and took time to visit my relatives in Holland. And then I took the train to Szeged, via Venezia, Wien and Budapest, to find Margot.