Ivan

Looking at old pictures and going through old papers can bring back all kinds of memories long dormant. People, places and feelings of which you hadn't thought in years suddenly they’re right there, front and center. The other day I came across a museum program from the late 80s…a lifetime, no at least two lifetimes ago.

Misty water colored memories indeed...

He made his entrance into the museum with his usual flashy style. Ivan wouldn’t just walk into a room, he exploded into it. His long, dark hair, streaked with gray, flowed behind him, as if blown by a wind machine. The white outfit hung on is long, lean body, making him appear taller and thinner and brighter.

As he walked further into the room, his long arms would reach out to everyone, hugging, caressing, shaking hands. Everyone knew he had arrived, especially me. My eyes snapped to him the moment he appeared and I couldn’t stop looking at him after that. But, I didn’t move from my spot by the beautiful gray and taupe colored painting, I waited for him to come to me. And, of course, he did.

Our flirtation had begun in his studio a few weeks prior when I discovered the Bakery Center Art Complex. The Bakery Center housed new artists, providing them with inexpensive studio and display space. I visited every studio, reveling in so much beauty. I walked into Ivan’s studio and instantly fell in love…not with Ivan, but with his work. When I entered the small, cluttered area, it stood empty, except for the canvases. One in particular entranced me as I walked in. It was huge, taking up the entire wall it leaned against, with broad strokes of bright tropical colors depicting a woman overlooking the beach. I stood there, transfixed, gaping at the painting, when I heard a deep, resounding laugh. When I turned I saw a magnificent man, his bare chest tan, sinewy, covered with dark, curly hair and paint. “I love how you look at my work” he said, smilingly widely.

After talking about his work for a while we went to lunch at a nearby Haitian restaurant and talked for a long time, nothing too intense, just introductory banter. Although we exchanged numbers, I wrote it off as another one of those wonderful chance encounters you can enjoy when you’re single, but of little importance. So, his invitation that evening to an opening at a funky little gallery on the Beach caught me by surprise…but thrilled me nonetheless.

That night turned out to be the first of several gallery jaunts and avant-garde adventures, where Ivan exposed me to a side of Miami I didn’t know, but loved. Each time we got together I felt a buzz of excitement and attraction, and he seemed prone to touching me, holding my hand, leaning in to me. Yet, something kept nagging at me about him and that something kept me from taking the physical aspect of our relationship a step further. It was something indefinable, yet there. Maybe it was a cadence in his voice, or his approach to art and aesthetics in general. Or the fact that that he looked at many of the good looking men that crossed our path the same way he looked me.

Now, back at the Museum, as he walked towards me I felt that same attraction, and when he touched my back, the goose bumps erupted instantly. We spent the entire evening together surrounded by friends, admiring the beautiful art, and enjoying the opening party. Our bodies were touching, in some fashion, the entire time. Afterwards, as I got into his old, rusty little car he leaned over and kissed my neck, and I let him. During dinner we barely spoke, but it felt comfortable and intimate nonetheless. His deep, chocolate-brown eyes looking at me made me breathless, and it appeared that same look made our handsome, blond waiter nervous. Afterwards when I returned from the restroom, I saw Ivan gently brush the waiter’s pale face with his strong, dark hand as he smiled at him tenderly, tucking a folded piece of paper into his pocket as I approached. I surprised myself at not being surprised.

After dinner, rather than driving me home, Ivan drove towards the airport. As we drove along Perimeter Road I knew what he had in mind, and I wondered how I should handle it. It had been a while since I had made-out in a car parked on the road running alongside the Miami Airport runway, and I smiled in the darkness as he maneuvered the car so that it would face the runway.

I definitely couldn’t let things get too carried away with a man I suspected of being bisexual - it was dangerous both physically and emotionally. He turned off the motor and got out of the car, quickly coming around to my side and opening the door. I stepped out, still wondering how to handle this. I stepped into the back seat and leaned back closing my eyes as he slid into the seat next to me. I felt his arm pull me close to him as my breath got shallow, my heart beating quickly. I opened my eyes and looked into his beautiful smiling face, “Ivan”, I asked, “are you bisexual?”

He caressed my face and laughed a wonderful, throaty laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked at me. Just then I made my decision, as I pulled his face towards mine. I really wanted to kiss him, that’s all…just kiss him. And that’s exactly what I did, as a plane roared into the darkness, causing the earth to shake…at least…I think it was the plane.

We saw each other for a while and then drifted away as so often happens. I don't know where he is, but I hope wherever he is, he's happy and being his fabulous self. And I hope if he remembers me, that the memory makes him smile that dazzling smile.

Question - When is a Cheetah a Chimp?

^ ^ above is a reasonable facsimile of what I was trying to draw ^ ^

Answer - When I have to draw one while playing Pictionary after imbibing in three "double" Appletinis.

See, it was my turn to draw and I swear I saw "chimpanzee", alas it was actually "cheetah". There were three couples and we were playing guys against girls, so when we were drawing, the boys got to look at the card. I kept hearing Hubby saying "is she drawing the right thing?" and I thought he was just making fun of my drawing skills.

Now I had the girls saying "monkey" but we couldn't quite make the leap to "chimpanzee". They didn't seem to grasp the *obvious* - I had drawn several trees and had the chimp jumping from one to another.

Of course there's also the matter that I don't really know what a chimp looks like. I think Tarzan's friend...OHMYGOD - ***LIGHT BULB MOMENT***! I just realized why I saw "cheetah" and thought "chimpanzee" - Tarzan's chimp was named Cheeta! DUH!

Seriously, I just realized this while I was writing it. I feel so much better now.

And don't "get all up in my grill" that a chimp isn't a monkey or doesn't look like my drawing - nothing I draw looks like what it's supposed to - that's my style. Yeah, that's it...it's a style called "hyper-unrealism" and I am its founder.

Pedro

Do you ever have someone pop into your head out of nowhere? Someone about whom you haven't thought of for a long while? Well it happened to me today, while I was minding my own business taking a shower - Pedro popped into my mind.

Pedro was a man I dated briefly about 20 years ago - my God, is that even possible? He was an artist and he was beautiful and he might have been bisexual.

Remember when we used to date people we knew we were only dating because they were attractive and fun and we knew nothing would ever come of it - and we knew they knew it as well? That's what it was like with Pedro.

As Maurice Chevalier once sang - "ah, yes, I remember it well". I met Pedro in his studio. I remember - like it was yesterday - I wandered into a vast warehouse space housing enormous canvases with brightly colored tropical scenes...a woman with a poppy-print dress wearing a straw hat with only her bright red lips showing, a toucan perched on a bright green palm frond with a patch of bright blue sky above, a beach view with splotches of color representing people on the sand contrasting the blue-green water. They were fantastic. So much color everywhere! And music. Loud, joyous, old-school Cuban music blaring out of a paint-splattered boom box - a traditional, percussion heavy guagancó.

But where was the artist? There's a saying in Spanish, "lo traje con el pensamiento" which translates as "I brought him with my thoughts" - that's exactly what happened. As I was taking in the sensory assaults of color and sound and wondering who was responsible for them, he walked out from behind a huge canvas. He was beautiful.

Tall, tan, lithe muscles, long limbs, no shirt, paint-splattered jeans, bare feet, long curly black hair, shining dark eyes and an impossibly bright smile. He literally took my breath away. As he walked towards me smiling I managed to compose myself and form coherent words. Within minutes, I was fine. He was easy to talk to, eager to talk about his work. I used to be on the board of a local museum and we were putting together an exhibit of local Cuban-American painters, one of them was Pedro - that's why I was there to begin with, to select the pieces to exhibit.

Next thing I know, we're dancing an old-fashioned danzon in the middle of the studio, with people walking in and perusing the pieces, like a couple dancing in the middle of it all was perfectly normal. And I guess it was. During the next few weeks we saw each other often, usually at the museum working on the exhibit and then we'd go out to dinner in his ancient Volvo.

We had a blast together. We went to a couple of gallery openings, a movie, just hung out. It never went any farther than kissing, he was a lovely kisser. One time after one of those lovely kisses in his car, I asked him if he was bisexual - I don't know why I had that idea, I just did - he looked into my eyes, laughed his wonderful laugh and kissed me again. It really didn't matter.

The night of the opening, I was at the museum with my friends, attending to the guests, answering questions about the exhibit, etc. All of a sudden he walked in to the building - he was dressed all in white with his dark hair and dark tan in stark contrast. Again, he took my breath away. All eyes were on him for a moment - he was fabulous. Even though it was a group show and despite that while good he was far from the best artist showing, he owned the night. Everyone wanted to talk to him, touch him, orbit the sun he was.

We went out casually for a a while after that, then he went out of town for a show and we slowly drifted apart. I think he may have moved away, I don't know. I just Googled him and couldn't find anything. I have one of the few small pieces he created - a Chistmas ornament.

I smile when I think about him and I'm glad I knew him. I hope he's well and happy.

Another reason I love Miami

I love Miami because this happens here.

Here's another image:

Minneapolis - Wednesday

Well today was the last day of the conference, and my last day in town. It was a short day at the conference so I was able to go sight-seeing, but before I left the conference I had quite a thrill!

I was approached by a fellow technical writer who knew my name from one of the technical writers' listserv groups, but she approached me to ask me if I was the same Hilda who had a Blog! She told me that she reads my Blog regularly and really enjoys it! OMG - I met a fan! How exciting! I know it's not the same as Curmudgeon who's nominated for a Blog award, but it was cool.

It was a great day for walking around, so when I left the conference, I made a bee-line for the Mary Tyler Moore statue and I saw it! Not only did I see it, but I threw a pretend hat up in the air and twirled around. Apparently this happens often because no one looked at me like I was insane - but I amused myself, so there.

Then I took a cab to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts . The museum is absolutely beautiful and it offers free admission every day! How amazingly and thrillingly civilized.

I was there for hours! The first thing I did was have lunch at the lovely restaurant. Then I walked around the permanent collection which has some fabulous stuff. But the highlight was definitely two of the special exhibits: "San Francisco Psychedelic Posters" which displayed a phenomenal collection of the posters that used to be plastered all over the city advertising the now legendary performances that took place at The Avalon and The Fillmore. The posters are incredible examples of psychedelic art and some even have elements of belle-epoque art and art nouveau.

The second exhibit "San Francisco Psychedelic" which is a collection of photographs of musicians from San Francisco's psychadelic hey-day was incredible. There were awesome pictures of Janis Joplin with Big Brother and the Holding Company, The Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Moby Grape, etc. But the most fun was that they had listening stations where you could listen to songs by all of the musicians represented in the exhibit. They had three stations and at one point there were three of us sitting there, completely rocking out with our head sets on. I listened to some favorites like Big Brother and the Holding Company's (with Janis Joplin) "Piece of My Heart", Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" and "Somebody to Love", The Grateful Dead's "Truckin'" and Country Joe and The Fish's "I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin'-to-Die-Rag" - so appropriate these days. I was sitting in this big, comfortable leather arm chair listening to Janis Joplin and I looked over and there was a heart-breakingly beautiful picture of her.

Afterwards I walked back to the hotel and stopped at a middle-eastern restaurant for some Turkish coffee - yummy! Then I went back to the hotel, changed and went to the theater to get my ticket for that evening's performance of Triple Espresso. I then went across the street for some delicious barbecue before the show.

The show was great - if it ever tours to your home-town, check it out.

So, my stay in Minneapolis is over, but I definitely want to come back, it is a wonderful vacation destination. There are 72,000 things I still want to see...

Happy Birthday Edvard!

Today is Edvard Munch's - one of my favorite artists - 143rd birthday.

The painting shown above "The Scream" or "The Cry" is probably his most famous painting, but he has a significant body of work in addition to this piece. Although "The Scream" is my favorite (I have two inflatable Screams, one about 2' tall that sits on my desk at work, and one that's 4' tall that lives in my second bedroom wearing a big straw hat, a feather boa and several strands of mardi gras beads), he painted another piece, "The Mermaid" which I also love.


You go Eddy!