As 2020 came to a close I began to feel a desire to well up within me.
She was whispering to me from a drawer.
I put on music to drown her out. I tried distracting myself with meetings, with the trappings of Christmas and the approaching new year to ignore her.
I caught myself thinking about the last time we sat across from each other.
Humilation, tears, disappointment and misunderstandings.
A gulf between us.
The louder I tried to turn up my world, the more persistent she has become from her spot in that filing cabinet drawer.
This is the way it is with projects and their creator. They don’t just come easily. They are an investment and sometimes they mean more to you than you’d like to admit.
Like an ex-lover who proved to be someone who couldn’t stick around when times got tough. Who just couldn’t explain themselves honestly and true enough for the world or you to understand them. They disappeared in the fog and stayed there while you floundered trying to fill a void.
It’s a bit like this for me and her.
We needed each other and then when I thought it was our time, she made herself scarce.
So I slipped her into a big fat file folder where she has been sitting and almost busting out of and for some reason she is choosing now to make noise about it.
This year, of 2021 to raise her voice and try to come back to me, in some strange and unknown format.
I am not sure whether I should serve tea when we meet again, or perhaps I should just uncork a wine bottle and pretend to have forgotten the glasses. See how she manages that.
Should I play Kanye West rap or Taylor Swift’s folklore?
Should I wear a revenge dress like Diana or just show up in sweats like Meredith Grey?
You might laugh at this. You might even call me fickle, but the truth is,
she was something. She was my proof that I understood the pulse of the creative world and to meet with her again, to look her in the eyes, means I have to open myself up to possibly see that she isn’t as perfect as I have remembered or that maybe we weren’t supposed to go the distance and that is that.
But there she is, making a fuss about being relegated to a file in a cabinet.
So off I go…
I think I’ll wear my oversized sweater and let my hair down.