Friday, October 23, 2009

And then she was-

And then she was-

It's weird how women I haven't thought of in twenty years can suddenly pop back into my head with a force that makes me go blind with a flash of mental recognition. This morning I was walking to work through a pedway that passes by an artist installation sponsored by the city's cultural center. There was a girl, rail thin, with a bob and her silhouette suddenly jettisoned me back in my head to freshman design class* in college. I had the biggest crush on this girl Lori, and she was built in much the same way as this other girl, only it was 1991 so her bob was asymmetrical and one half of her head had a much larger mass of hair on it than the other. Not art school bob really, more the longish all one length hair swept mostly to one side, y'know?

Anyway, I suddenly remember that teenage ache, and the unrequited longing, and to make matters worse she developed a crush on my friend (and later roommate) Scott. I have no idea if they ever hooked up, I don't think he would've told me for fear I'd get upset and stop helping him write his papers. (I generally wouldn't write papers for friends n college, but Scott was so hopeless at stringing a sentence together I would sort of tutor / edit him ... he was a really gifted artist though.**)

I hadn't thought of Lori since, well, probably shortly after that design class ended. I had forgotten her name, what she looked like, everything. And then with one glance at a silhouette it all came back.

And the funny thing, the girl that triggered this all really didn't look a thing like Lori. I think it was just the general impression and the artist's space that came together to trigger all of this.

How about you? Has this sort off thing happened in your past?

*It's true, when I started school I was a double major, visual arts and english.
**
You know, which brings this to mind, that while I was an O.K. visual artist it's fairly obvious my true gift was to be found in words, and makes me wonder if his gift with a brush of sculpture detracted from his ability to write. Is it some sort of cosmic balancing act? I dunno.

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