Adhit was going to come visit, across the world. I was so excited. I planned to show him as good of a time as he showed me in his country.
He messaged to say that his mum was in hospital, he couldn’t come. I replied that we could meet as international babes in 2021, age 31.
Adhit messaged to say his mum had died. I started crying at work (don’t check facebook at work). As I was driving home I thought about telling my mom about Anna (Adhit’s mum) and sobbed.
Anna made interesting and emotive art. She was a pisces, and when I met her I thought: “She would be a great mother in law.” Not that I would ever get married, but some moms make that a temptation. One morning, after feeling sheepish for making Adhit moan so loudly the night before, Anna showed me her paintings.
She was timid to show her work, but the subject came up and I asked her about it. The paintings were neatly organized and she gave thoughtful, dreamy context for each one. They all embodied a subtle but forceful psychological space. There was one in particular I remember, which had a grouping of figures like ladders and people. It was in a series of planes with this interesting non-linear dimensionality.
I went to a show. Sarah asked how I was, I told her I was very sad for my friend. Later she asked how my interview had gone, I said I was going to Italy and we drank celebratory beers in the parking lot.
Christian said he loved mine and Sarah’s friendship. I love mine and Sarah’s friendship. I love Sarah.
Angelo said: “How are you? Tell me everything” and walked inside before I said anything.
But I told you everything, didn’t I? Dear blog.