may 14th

i expected a call from you. an email.. something. i waited and waited all day at no consequence. Did you get my letter ?

you

As soon as you came in, the agony... went away

While in New York

It's been months since i last saw her face. Since i last saw the reflection of light in her eye. Smelled the sweet scent of vanilla emitting from her clean skin. Feeling the warmth she emits in bed. She was always warm. Curling up in my sheets wrapping herself like a burrito. I can never forget the way she looked at me when she first woke up. Her eyes soft as the days first light. Looked at me pondering. Perhaps thinking what she wanted for breakfast. But i like to think she thought about me. Perhaps us in the future. But who am i to think this beautiful person would think of me and her in the future. Why would this girl pick me. Up to now it seems she has. She has other suiters. Yet she spends every night in my house. In my bed. I could've stayed and looked at her for days. She's so beautiful.

It's been months. I try and forget her. Going here and there and thinking of other things. Distracting things. But everything has to do with her. She was the reason my world turned. Without her everything feels astray. I just spent 2 weeks in New York. The city glows with the energy of the people that inhabit the area. Everyone there is incredibly welcoming. I miss all those people. Mike is a good friend. He always listens with open ears and intrepets what i tell him. He doesn't just wait for his turn to talk. I feel like i could tell him anything and he always gives me truthful and weighted answers. Theres an honesty in him not often found in most friends. Seems he really cares. He tells me to forget her. But she was my girl. I took care of her and loved to do so. She might have been a pain in the ass but she was my pain in the ass. In the train one day there was an elderly woman in front of me. She seemed well dressed and of wealth. Why was this lady on a train well passed midnight ? I looked at her and wondered these things. For some reason it reminded me so much of Amliv. The more i looked at her the more i noticed little things. One thing that especially struck me was a watch she was wearing. This was no women's style watch. The face was too big. Too classically big for a woman's wrists. It had to have belonged to a man. In my head i created this life, a past for this seemingly well dressed stranger. Perhaps this was an ex husband watch. He probably passed away from old age. In my head they where together for a long time. Lived in New York their whole life. He took care of her as i did of Amliv. For reasons he couldn't control, perhaps cancer, he left her. He passed on to the next place. As i looked at her longer she kept groping and rubbing the watch. She gave a look of worry and the more it seemed she worried the more she rubbed and touched the watch. It comforts her. I wish i could tell her everything would be alright. But i had no idea who this person was. I've never wanted to see and hear from Amliv so much. I wanted to know if she was ok. If she had eaten that day. If she was warm or tired. If there was anything she needed. But my desires where unrealistic. She would never speak to me again. Or so she said last time we talked.. I believe that was her final message to me.

It's been months. I've written this letter over a hundred times. I always think of things to change and things to add. The more i think of it the more i change it. Some days i read it again and again. Fall asleep with it in my arms and dream about that girl im writing to. The dreams are vivid. In the dreams i smell her. I could sense her and feel her pulse. She's real in my dreams. Today is the day. Today is the day i write the final letter. Tomorrow i shall mail it. What her response will be im not sure. What response i want her to give im not sure. She always asked me to be open. Well this is the most open I've ever been. In this letter vie written everything. So here goes nothing, yet everything...

After a night of painting

Everyday seems the same. I wake, that's if i was able to sleep, and walk to my studio. In my studio there are endless memories of us in the air. Not only that but the painting looks just like her. I walk in my studio sometimes and just stare at it. see if i could feel of that comfort again. Some of her warmth.

I sit and stare at the painting and think of what has happened. Seems almost as if they didn't. Like if i saw everything in front of me in a movie and i was helpless to do something about it. When i draw her i feel close to her. Perhaps thats why shes's all over my studio. I couldn't count the amount of times I've drawn her late at night. Not being able to sleep. Smoke the night's first cigarette and begin working on the painting. I try and distract myself by thinking of the technical aspects of the painting. Are the hues right.. do the temperature changes make sense. But its still her. It's still my Helen, my Amliv. When working on the painting time seems to slow down. What in actuality is a 6 hour painting session feels like a lifetimes work. But in a few hours the sun shall rise and the day's first light will begin to dry the moistened leaves. Soon i'll have to go take a shower and prepare for work. I try and remember the lessons from Art School. Look at the model more than the painting, stay loose, make sure you distinguish the anatomy in the right places. But i know what she looks like. I could draw her from memory if needed but i still try and look at the reference as often as i can. The more i look at it the more i remember that day. I was so nervous taking those pictures. I concentrate so much on that night that my hands paint by themselves, my mind retreats to another place. A place where these pictures slightly move. I interact with them as if it was really her. Was i going mad ? She moves like danger. Slowly moving slighty and silently. The aroma of vanilla fills the air around me. I could feel her here with me. She smiles from the anxiety. But it's a soft smile and its beautiful. No words can describe the feeling i get when she smiles like that. Theres an honesty there i don't often see. Although i could feel shes a little anxious she's comfortable. She wouldn't be modeling for me like this if she wasn't. I love to make her comfortable, to feel like she's being taken care of.

My morning alarm starts ringing in the my bedroom across the hall. I look at her again and she no longer moves. She's a picture again. i look at the painting and its really coming to life. Her eyes are beginning to glow and her stance is very real and descriptive of her personality. If i where to cut out her head you would still know it was her just from the body language. Of course you would have to know her though. It's seven in the morning and i have to get to work soon. I could hear the restless traffic of the street beginning to build up as the time passes. I guess I'm done for the night. I got pretty far for one setting. The tones are beginning to make sense and the light is becoming obvious. One thing i learned after school is that if you can't distinguish where the light source is your not done painting.

i light another cigarette and look off into the neighborhood. I wonder if she slept well. If shes hungry. She's probably still sleeping dreaming of something. I wonder if its of me.

before elysium

Welcome. Over the next few months I'll be writing this book. These are writings from my experiences the last few years. writings about love and love lost. I've written a lot in my journals over the past 8 months. I let go of someone for reasons i didnt understand. I cant sleep and can't eat. So instead I read books, paint and write constantly. It's become a new lifestyle.

My goal is to put together a book and script out of these writings. In this blog i shall document the process.