Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe photographed by Norman Seeff, 1969.
“We wanted, it seemed, what we already had, a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet be free.”- Patti Smith
In her memoir Just Kids, Patti Smith details her intense relationship with
Robert Mapplethorpe in which they struggle to become artists in New York City. They lived together at the Hotel Chelsea – home to numerous writers, musicians, actors and artists. Patti supported Robert by working in bookstores, he soon flourished as a photographer and encouraged her to pursue visual art. As a writer, Patti eventually turned her poems into songwriting. For the cover of her debut album, Horses (1975), Patti used a portrait Robert took. Once Robert came out as a gay man their intimate relationship ended but they remained friends until his death from HIV/AIDS in 1989.
-In a battle of etiquette-based oneupmanship, I found myself engaged in an ever-reciprocating chain of goodbyes and waves. My opponent: a four year-old with a penchant for trucks. The sparring waged on until, after the thirty-seventh goodbye, the tired mother hushed her son, leaving me as the reigning champion.
-A six year-old tore the bag of a Minecraft toy and insisted to his mother that she had to buy it now, that it was her duty to purchase the damaged goods. Whether a sincere act of guilt or simply a masterful career-making con, it was ultimately in vain, as the mother hid the evidence and led her children on a grand escape.
-A man attempted to leave his empty Starbucks cup at a vacant register to get away with not throwing it away himself. Unfortunately for him, this had actually been my register, and I had stepped away momentarily. My return was perfectly timed as I successfully spooked the life out of him and he swiftly snatched it up and made a run for it. Justice prevails once more.
-I caught a woman in her forties Instagramming her Starbucks experience. Not with a picture of her drink, but rather, the entire Starbucks. I am deeply and truly proud of this woman for living her life to the fullest.
-I listened, enraptured, as two girls debated whether or not they share a mother. I only wish I could have heard the conclusion.
-Today, we at my store are facing the unspeakable: a near-complete bag shortage. We have been raiding adjacent lanes for whatever bags they had to spare, but these resources will soon dry up. We are left with few options. Our next raid will have to be a nearby location. We must survive. Whatever the cost.
-“Don’t talk to me, I have to go to Walmart,” A mother snapped at her children. I understand. I, too, can lose my temper when facing such a harrowing realization.
-In the midst of a casual conversation, a guest dropped that she “is going to eat the heiny out of a horse.” I do not know her, and I may be overstepping my bounds here, but please LEAVE THE HORSE ALONE.
-A couple came through my lane and purchased only a large bottle of lube. This in itself did not faze me, however, the payment did. As he handed me his cash, I noticed that the middle two fingers on his dominant hand had been broken and were in a cast. Clearly, this is a man who has learned his lesson the hard way.
So we were on our way to a keep to go retrieve this book for a priest, and we learn there are horses a couple hours away. A local pickpocket and thief, Est (who speaks with a Southern gentlemen accent) agrees to help us get the horses in exchange for one of the horses and 8 silver pieces. I (a Druid) cast Speak with Animals to try to speak to the horses. After some convincing, I persuade the horses to allow us to keep them in exchange for their safety and comfort. I asked them their names, and the leader was named Sweetflame. Previously, we were playing Cards Against Humanity and the word “eugenics” became a group joke. Ren, our Ranger decides he knows a better name. Ren (OOC): I still think Eugenics would be a better name. Our DM: Make a Strength saving throw for getting thrown from your horse. Ren: rolls a Nat 1 DM: You are bodily thrown into the nearby frost and mud. You don’t take any damage but you’re cold and miserable for the day.
Ren has yet to make any kind of successful roll when a animal has been involved.
… I listened to a lot of podcasts while I was gone and ate shrimp mofongo and bought earrings from local designers. I ate a lot of pizza and one poorly seasoned fish sandwich and met a smiling dog right there in the bar who I think, no lie, was sent by the universe to make me feel better.
I stepped in horse shit a couple times and had beaches all to myself and stared out at the endless water and thought again of how small and insignificant I really am, all things considered. The biobay tour guide told us that there are only six of these bays still on earth and that the oceans are throwing up all the plastic and trash we’ve been tossing into them over the past few decades. Reminded me that the planet will definitely get rid of us before we are able to get rid of her. And then thought about the current state of humanity and decided that probably wouldn’t be so bad.
I missed him so much. Every time someone said “table for one?” or “just one today?” I felt his absence all over again. Thought about how much he’d have loved the water and taking pictures of me and being tipsy all day.
Then thought about how we almost certainly would have ended up arguing and angry. Remembered that God knows what she is doing in my life.
Fuck, I miss him though. I am so tired of crying.
I’m angry because he broke my trust in the deepest way and I’m angry because I let him that close to me. I’m angry because I let him into my life and now I miss being held. I miss being touched. I miss being actively loved. I feel lonely sometimes and I’m sad because of those things. I don’t want to talk about it.
I hate that I have to build a rind around my soft human parts. Again. I hate how much I miss him. I hate how often I think about his eyes and the tender way he always told me he loves me. I hate that night and that it happened. I hate that I ever took his number in the first place. I hate that I miss our routine and I hate that I let him spend so much time in my space. I hate that I miss game nights and date nights and “let’s just be washed” nights. I hate that I miss doing the laundry with him because he doesn’t mind folding. I hate that I miss hearing his key turn in the lock. I hate that I was vulnerable with someone who violated that. I hate that I still care and I really hate fucking crying.