So, yesterday I went to see my friends art studio in Brooklyn. She is a gay woman in a committed relationship from Israel. She met me at the train station and we walked to get a cappuccino. While we were in line we got to talking about how a lot of her friends don't have visas so they can't travel out of the country with their partners because of immigration. Then we went to her studio sipped our cappuccino and talked about Niche, and how his philosophy is that pain is a part of life and that you need to use it to propel your art. Then she showed me all of her art. One of them, I said, looked like a Richard Serra and her whole face lit up. She said he's the inspiration! She uses tools to spread the paint over the canvas with the movement of her body to creates the images.  In one of the paintings she uses one of those black and white Afghan scarfs and made a print with it. It reminded me of the book the Kite Runner that I just read about an afghan man and his boyhood friendship. His childhood friend told him he would help him always; " for you, a thousand times over" and it moved me. The simplicity of having someone love you that much. Earlier in the day I had been anxious, but as soon as we sat and talked, a calm came over me. Here we were two people from two totally different parts of the world sharing a coffee and some conversation. I left feeling honored that she allowed me to be part of her process.  When I got to Manhattan I got off the subway and walked smack dab in the middle of  a gang fight.  I got myself out of danger, but it really shook me up. My whole life I've wondered if anyone would miss me if I died, but this was the first time in my life that I really felt like I could have died, in a split second, I could have been gone. As I kept walking, I bumped into a bunch of friends that I hadn't seen in while. They were so happy to see me "Sue where have you been? We haven't see you in so long! It's so good to see you!" And at that moment I realized that if I had died there were a lot of people who would miss me.  And then, the afternoon flashed before me, If I hadn't died and just ended up in the hospital badly beaten, my family could come and see me and my husband, if I had one, but for my friend the artist from Israel she wouldn't be so lucky. So for the people out there who can't have their loved ones by there side, take that pain and propel your art as I pray for you a thousand times over.

1 Comment