Zoë
is one of my best girlfriends. I first met her when I was twenty, at a house party. Back then, her hair was pink and spiky, and I remember she was wearing these large dangly geometric earrings. The thing is, the 80's had been long over- but I really dug her retro look.
She wasn't the first girl I experimented with, but she was the first girl that I really had anything special going with. That night, I had no idea that she was even into girls. Especially since she was hanging on the arm of this lanky dark haired guy with an eyebrow piercing.
The two of them were going at it pretty hot and heavy, like some kind of high school make-out session. As it happened, I found out later that she had just graduated, and he had just dropped out of alternative ed. He was joining this local alt/punk band which she thought was totally cool. I could see that they weren't going anywhere- the band or the couple, but I kept my mouth shut. There was really no reason to do otherwise.
We didn't hook up that night, but we talked during the time that alternate-boy was hanging with his band-mates. I was in college, studying art and I told her that I would love to paint her sometime. She was kind of shy about that, she didn't feel that she was especially pretty and she felt sort of awkward. I let her know that I thought she had the perfect face for portraits, and that she wouldn't have to do anything other than sit still and keep me company while I painted her.
"You mean I don't have to sit perfectly still the whole time?" she asked me.
"Of course not, just when I'm sketching out a certain feature, and that's the shortest part of the process."
She agreed that it wouldn't be much different than what we were already doing and that she would do it, if I really needed her to help me out. I told her that I really did. What I meant was that I really wanted to, but she didn't seem ready to believe it.
In the weeks that followed, we came to know each other pretty well as I rendered her likeness onto the best quality canvas I could afford. She was frustrated by the fact that I wouldn't let her see it until it was finished, but she seemed to enjoy our sessions as much as I did.
We found out that we had a lot in common; similar values and politics, interest in the arts- Zoë was into photography and fashion design, similar taste in music (band-boy notwithstanding). One thing that we never discussed was my growing attraction for her. She never hinted at any tendencies toward bi-sexuality and I didn't want to take a chance of damaging our friendship or scaring her off, so I didn't say anything. But I felt the heat in the room whenever she was around. I knew the excitement whenever I thought about her, or the anticipation of seeing her again. Part of me didn't want to finish the painting; part of me had this irrational fear that when the painting was finished, I'd never see her again.
But I did finish the painting. I remember the day quite clearly. She came in that day with her pink hair spiked up and those same geometric earrings she wore the first time I had seen her. She was wearing head to toe green and it made me think of a nature spirit, the way her tiny body floated around the room and her musical little laugh echoed around in my head long after the sound had dissipated from the room.
At first she sat quietly while I added the finishing touches. She knew that I was almost done and there was something almost magical about it that we both understood. It was almost as if we were holding our breaths in anticipation, knowing that the finished product was so close so fragile that we didn't want to do anything to slow it down or break it at the last minute.
"OK," I finally said. "You wanna come see?"
Her eyes lit up. "It's ready?" she asked tentatively.
I nodded and she ran to my side. When she looked at the picture, I heard her inhale suddenly and then she was silent for a moment or two.
"You made me look so- beautiful," she said in awe.
"You are beautiful," I answered. She looked at me with her eyes shining. Something passed between us, I felt I know what it was but I was afraid to name it. A moment that seemed it could have gone anywhere if one of us had had the courage to seize it. But neither of us did, and the moment passed.
"Your very talented," she told me. I wondered if the moment had happened at all.
"I think this is my best work," I told her.
"Can I see some of your other stuff?" she asked, looking eager.
"Sure, let's do that while this one dries. It always looks a little different after the paint dries."
I took her over to my cupboard and we started looking through my canvases. I didn't have many yet, most of the pictures I had painted in high school where in boxes painted on heavy paper. Most of the canvases, even, were from school assignments. We flipped through my meager collection. Zoë seemed impressed with every one.
"Wow!" she told me, "I don't think I could ever be that talented."
"What are you talking about?" I asked her. "You're a photographer! And you design clothes."
"Yeah, but that's different. Photography's not really a talent like painting. I just take a picture of what's there. You create."
"We all have different talents Zoë. You use your eyes to see and capture beauty just like I do. You shouldn't undervalue yourself."
"Don't hide your light under a bushel huh?" she laughed.
"Exactly."
Our friendship was cemented that day. Rather than being the last, it was the first that really mattered. It was the day we went from being people who knew each other to being real true friends. Zoë liked my fairy pictures the best, and I sometimes wonder if that isn't the reason that I've painted so many since then.
Zoë became my model, and secretly my muse. She would sit for me whenever I needed to do a painting for class, or even if I just wanted to practice sketching features. One day when I was preparing to do an assignment she said something that made the hair on my arms stand up.
"Do you ever do- you know, nudes?" she asked quite shyly.
"Sure, in class I've done a few," I told her trying to be nonchalant.
