Picks and Pans Review:
updated 06/27/1988 AT 01:00 AM EDT
•originally published 06/27/1988 AT 01:00 AM EDT
They are the same children from '67. Nothing has changed in the refugee camps, and their future is etched on their faces like an ancient, fossilized record. For now, they are little children in kindergarten...I begin to differentiate their faces, their voices, their smiles, their characters, and slowly also their beauty and delicacy, and this is not easy. It requires an investment of energy on my part, since I also have trained myself to look at Arabs with that same blurred vision which makes it easier for me (only for me?) to deal with their chiding, accusing, threatening presence, and during this month of encounters with them I must do exactly the opposite, enter the vortex of my greatest fear and repulsion, direct my gaze at the invisible Arabs, face this forgotten reality, and see how—as in the process of developing a picture—it emerges before me slowly, slowly from the emulsion in the darkroom of my fears and my sublimations.