Saturday night was the most recent opening of my friend Barb Monoian's amazing endeavor "Musee de Monoian." She has included me in her gallery space based solely on the fact that Barb understands how one sort of art can be meaningful in context of another, i.e. my words next to a painting, both built around the same theme, even though we worked independently and do not know each other, can potentially create something interesting.
And Meg visited during the opening; I am sure of it.
I had pointed out my pages and showed some friends where they were in the cacophony of artwork, and then I bent down to sign the guestbook that goes along with this particular exhibit. And the DJ began to play Sade. Meg and I spoke to each other all the time in Sade -- it sounds rather strange to other people, I find; it sounds corny. But to us it was something different, a shared something that seemed between only us.
I stood up and spun around. "Are you hearing this?!?" I shouted, to Mario, to Laura and Amy, to anyone who would listen. I wanted someone else to hear it. I wanted the message to be witnessed by someone else, because I was afraid, for only a moment, that I had invented it.