It has been brilliantly sunny and hot enough that I had to abandon my normal summer outfit of long sleeved black shirts. I don’t like to wear t-shirts featuring the magazine or my books, and today the first suitable option I encountered was a Chorus shirt.
Dwayne designed and cut the stencil of two hands clasping while we were all camping just before performing at the original Ladyfest. We all used it for years, and I remember exactly when I shook a bottle of black spray paint to make the shirt I pulled out of a box today.
James was visiting from Chicago, long before he moved to Tokyo. Per was visiting from Sweden, and we were trying to persuade both of them to move near us. That week was a long dreamy sequence of sunny days and hot nights, sitting out on the stoop or lolling on the porch, leaning against each other and talking in the dark.
I threw one of my big parties. Was it the going-away party for Amy Joy? A costume party? The travelers party? I don’t know. But the day after the party we used the stencil and spray paint and made shirts for everyone who wandered by. Then I sprayed the design on the wood of the front porch.
Some of those friends send letters and email and call. Others have visited, and I was in Portland a few weeks ago. But I don’t live there any longer. Today I put the shirt on and stared at myself in the mirror and missed my friends more than I thought was possible.
I took the shirt off and put it back in the box.