Cal opens a drawer, pulls out a sketch pad and charcoal and sets them down on a drafting table.' Let's draw.' I smile the way I did as a child when receiving a fresh box of 64 Crayola crayons, unabashedly showing all my teeth. I remember how much I used to love to draw, and I wonder why I don't do it anymore. I write, I guess. I draw with words, but when I see Cal's pad and charcoal, I'm overwhelmed with the feeling that it's not the same. I use my words, my artist's charcoal to describe what I'm thinking. He draws with an imperfect fluidity, pausing only occasionally to shade the drawing with his thumb or brush the paper with the back of his hands. He listens and nods and doesn't interrupt. And when I'm done speaking he looks at the drawing, and his eyes get really big. Slowly, he turns his pad around for me to see. My heart stops and then starts. 'Yes, ' I say. It's perfect. Alive with added detail and beautiful Inuit soulfulness I couldn't have even imagined sitting outside in my car. My fear is gone. There's a tingling in my skin, like I can feel the thousand needle pricks to come. I am alive. .Steven Rowley
About This Quote
I have a very vivid memory of the first time I met my future husband. We were both twenty years old. I was at the bar of an Italian restaurant with a group of friends, eating pepperoni pizza, drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, and laughing. As soon as I saw him, I knew he was who I was looking for.
He was tall, dark, and handsome. He was speaking to the other guy there, but he looked over at me and smiled. And then he came over to me.
He introduced himself and said that he was really looking forward to meeting me. We went outside to talk some more away from the noise of the restaurant. And then he kissed me! Later that night we went back to his apartment where we spent the rest of the night together!We've been married for twenty years now and we still love each other very much!
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