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Today I signed on a new sculptor to a show in the spring. Melissa Dubois. I know you studied a little art history at UNC and that you enjoyed sculpting in particular. This artist uses the human body as her focus, often with light coming through cracks in the core or neck. At times, her sculpture is headless and contorted, dark. And yet the light prevails, sometimes shining dimly through a barely discernable crack and other times bursting out in abundance. I wept the first time I saw her work and am drawn even now to each piece as I look through her portfolio. That light exists, even in the darkest and most twisted of forms, moves me deeply. Gives me more hope than I have had in a very long time. A storm blew through last night, the wind howling and raging and tearing leaves off the trees, overturning patio furniture. I reveled in it, sitting by the window and watching as the lightening and the slanted rain washed everything away. Hours I sat there, Tee. A front row seat to the conflict within. And this morning, colder air but a freshness too, like the city had been scrubbed clean, waiting for a new dawn. Waiting. Just… waiting.
They settled blissfully into a whirlwind of sex, consumed with the loss time, the need to reconnect physically, the desire overwhelming at times. It reminded them both of their early days when the sex was so new, fresh and explorative. Nowhere was off limits, the kitchen, the shower, even outside by the garden all revisited in their urgency to be together. Both had been celibate while they were apart, focused on making it through the day and their separate journey to heal. Not wanting to take another. Waiting.
This afternoon was overcast, gray, the rain sitting in swollen clouds daring to fall. Bette lay on her back, naked, propped up on several pillows with Tina’s body resting between her legs, her head on Bette’s stomach. Bette ran her fingers through the silky hair, slowly, gently. Tina’s head was turned to the side and Bette couldn’t tell if the blonde was awake or not. It was peaceful, a tiredness creeping in her bones after their marathon sex, a pleasant tiredness that felt restorative at the same time it made her want to sleep.