THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
This is a story that I'm going to tell, realizing already how it's going to sound.
We were laying in the grass in front of what used to be a church. It was lunch. It was hot because it was May and it was hot because we were sitting in the sun. Nadine and Brittany were laying on their stomachs. I was sitting, trying to hide my face from the sun. None of us were eating food because none of us ever at any food.
Nadine had this portable cassette player, and I didn't know why, and she had this copy of Your Arsenal on this stupid cassette, and she was playing it.
And we were sitting there, silent in this kind of heat stupor, and the song "I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday" came on.
And I remembered hearing it played live in that soft, pink rainy sort of night, in all that cigarette smoke, head to toe in sequins walking down Hollywood Boulevard, and I said, 'Fuck, I love this song.' And Nadine said, 'Yeah, I love it too.'
And we laid there and listened to it played on her cassette player over and over and over again, long past the time when the bell had rung and everyone had gotten up to go wherever they were supposed to be going.
That afternoon was supposed to be special. I was in the art show. I was featured prominently in the art show. I had twelve pieces and I was right in the front. The front front, not just to the side.
So my grandparents came. In the middle of the afternoon, they called me down from printmaking and my grandparents were there- My grandfather in his wheelchair. His hair was growing back.
So we walked down the hallway and we went into the room where they were showing it. And they walked- rolled- around, not saying anything. They didn't start with my things, but I knew that they knew which one it was. And they walked, and walked, and then they came to mine.
And they stopped and they stared at my work.
And they didn't say anything.
And then they kept walking.
My grandmother told me how much she liked all the still lives. My grandfather told me that some things were decent, the rest 'we disapprove of'.
And then they went home. And I went back upstairs.
And I went back into printmaking, and Miss Shannon and Ms Kliman were standing there, with Nadine and Gabi, and Nadine was playing Your Arsenal again, on the old boom box in the corner near the sinks, and I told them what happened.
And they said, 'Your family is horrible. We love you, it's alright. We believe in you and your work is beautiful.'
And I sat back down, and Gabi sat down next me, and I couldn't work and we didn't talk about what happened, and we just talked about stuff and I didn't say very much, and that night I listened to that song and I laid in my bed and I cried and cried and cried and cried, and I had no idea what it was exactly that I was crying about.
But I still sort of feel like it was one of the most important days in a year of days that were all very important, and this one perhaps a bit richer in its metaphors.
I've had very few people in my entire life who have ever believed in me or told me that I didn't need to change, that I was okay, and that afternoon I walked away from my family who have known me my whole life and who are supposed to love me and take care of me and into a room full of people I had only known for six months at most- Who really did love me and did take care of me. Who told me that I was going to be alright and that they were wrong and that people who tell me I can't do things are wrong.
And that was the first time ever- Ever in my entire life- That that has happened, the first time I have ever felt that. From virtual strangers.
And now I have to rip everything apart and start all over again, believing that it will keep happening.
Whatever you are
Don't lose faith
I know it's gonna
happen someday
To you
Please wait ...
Please wait ...
Oh ...
Wait ...
Don't lose faith