In our Season.
I used to complain so much, annoyed that every chore would need to be done again, that grass would grow back as soon as I’d cut it. Now I am in awe how it will grow no matter what you do to it. How I need that knowledge.
- Mark Nepo from “The Book of Awakening”
Do you still draw? You had such a way with crayons or any artistic utensil for that matter. Crayons, pens, paints, I still have that tank top we tie-dyed together in your grandmother's studio. Piano. Nobody could play like you, I still can’t believe you refused lessons and can just play by ear like that. You were so humble with this, I should have gone to the piano room and listened to you play more. I hope you still write. I have a box in my room with the letters you wrote me, pictures you printed of me and us (on a potato), bookmarks, cartoon-like drawings you drew for me, and your creative writing pieces from when we took creative writing together. I read your pieces in LA magazine sometimes but I hope you still write, creatively. Guy Richie’s, 2019 The Gentleman, is still one of my favorite movies. I remember when you came to see me after you first saw the movie in theaters and you were so childlike, as you praised all your awe at the artistic choices of the film. Do you still have pulp fiction posters hanging in your bedroom? Or that eclectic collection of cameras? What is your fashion like these days, still wearing those houdini pants you wore to my TEDx Talk? Hopefully not, but you loved them. I wonder if you still smell of the cologne from Le Labo you used to wear, the unisex one. If I smell it or see a bulldozer on the street, I’m always reminded of you. Do you still wear rings? You weren’t really a fan of Lorde, but John Mayer and Dominic Fike are still two of my favorite concerts to date. Chicken Tenders. The Book of Awakening. Do you still use that yellow polk-a-dot journal I gave you for graduation, the one I wrote all those poems and quotes in? Remember when we used to get high on edibles and go to comedy shows, you had such a talent for laughing, something in and of itself, an artform. How’s the podcast, do you still do that? Sometimes when I am feeling nostalgic and romantic, I dance barefoot on my tippy toes in a long floral dress to a song with basic guitar strings and think, he could play this. You probably can play something even more complex, you’re probably an entirely different artist now, you’ve had over 1,461 days since our season to study and evolve into your becoming.
I heard from your friends you moved, saw on Linkedin you got a new job, word on the street says you ran the New York City Marathon and whispers from the waters of Hawaii say that you’re a big surfer now? Hell ya! Even though we haven’t talked in years, I hope your soccer career is going well and congrats on the wedding, she looked beautiful and you both seem happy, that makes me happy. I said a prayer when I heard of your grandfather’s passing, and when John Mayer’s You’re Gonna Live Forever in Me comes on I almost always skip it, but inevitably, proudly, and naturally, you have.
As for me, I am doing really well. At 26, I am coming into myself more fully. I have kept up the writing. It is crazy to think that some of my best pieces on this blog are about you, us, our season together. If we did talk I would tell you I have grown as a writer, art collector, Dominc Fike listener, fashion obsessor, jewelry emphasizer, Guy Richie follower, comedian watcher, easy laugher, and someone who lives for seasonal moments captured on film. I have cultivated these parts of myself solo and through other experiences, but in many respects our season together encouraged and unveiled these characteristics in me. We planted the seeds together that have helped me blossom into a human who loves the world more deeply and works to save it through my art. For this alone, I am so grateful for you.
I am over you romantically, but if we did bump into each other I would ask: What kind of artist you are now? And I would be fascinated to hear who you’ve become, what you have blossomed into, if you feel more alive, and what cultivated your bloom?
We are getting to the age where one day soon I will be with a man who will see me through a multitude of seasons, one who will love and enjoy me in all my costumes. We will sit and discover one another. Questions will be asked. Stories will be shared. Beholding all of our seasons together. Naturally, it will prompt me to reminisce. And as I unravel and unveil all that I am to this man, I will say: let me tell you the story of where this part of me first was inspired. Early in my 20s, I fell in love with this boy.
Love Always,
Casey
