"One pose, lie down, I'll write your words around you."
I think she knew things were happening, and that having her words 'wrapped' around her was transformative. She still felt some anger, I think. It's a powerful dose, all this. I have to be patient.
She laid down like a beautiful deer. I think she was wearing a gold thong. Her hair had a little tuft that came from her cowlick, the rest went in a wash to one side. I was writing and I was painting. Suddenly I realized it didn't matter what the words were. Just the sounds that came from them in that situation.
They were peaceful.
In this drawing she is composed and whole, whereas all of her other drawings show a lack of symmetry, a kind of madness, and rage. It always seemed to happen this way. When the drawings become calm and ordered, she stops, almost as if at that point she knows the work is done.
R____ went west, and married a film director.
We worked one year later, when she was pregnant, with twins.
