Something About Her

The last two months have been an amazing blur. Obviously, in a good way, though. I have been fortunate to enter into an intimate and committed relationship with my companion. My lady is a sensitive, passionate person that inspires my own creativity and excitement for life. By most accounts, I am crazy about her, as evidenced by three abstract paintings I did recently that were born out of my desire for her.

There is a certain synchronicity around the time she came into my life. We met within days of the lost of one of my beloved mentors. The first few days of his death left me uncertain as to how I would handle the impact of his passing. A former Catholic priest, I felt comfortable asking for his intercessory help from the other side. I prayed that he would send someone to ease the pain of being alone and without his guidance.

I needed someone in my life. Not just to ease the lost, but as a calling to be in a relationship with someone special. That is when she showed up. Yes, I believe it was my mentor's support that made our introduction possible. She does, as well. One of the initial points of common between us is that she had attended several of my teacher's events prior to my relationship with him.

She is a wonderful woman. Attractive, cultured (she speaks nine languages), intelligent and intriguing, I am grateful to be in relationship with her. So far, our differences seem cause for connection rather than separation. She is Swedish, I am African American. She left home early on to discover the world vis a vis her travels around Europe. I went directly from high school to college not far from where I was raised. There are other things, but suffice it to say, it works.

From my previous failed relationships, I hope this one will be different. By all early indications, I think she gets me. One of her initial compliments to me was that she identified early on that my visual art is the product of my poet's heart. I feel relaxed around her and that I can be myself. I trust I do the same for her. We have been able to talk about our points of disagreement, too. I like that we both know to use the phrase, "I'm sorry."

Besides, I dig the little stuff about her, too. She knows how I like my morning coffee. I know the kind of wine she prefers in the evening. It is the simple things that grab my attention, not the big productions that run out of steam in a few days. Most importantly, she loves me. And, I love her. That's where she and I start and end. We can figure out the rest later.