Dear Camille,

Today is your birthday.

I open my journal to share something with you.

We met in dance class at university in 1983.

We found our way to each through dance, through arts and crafts, through books, through pie.  And through letters.

We intertwined our bodies in the studio and on stage.

I regret we could not express our queerness and ace-ness in the eighties.

We were trying to fit into a heteronormative world.  We had no role models.

We both clumsily lost ourselves and eventually each other.

I regret that I was not mature enough to be fully open with you.

I regret we lost touch as I was caring for my parents and going through hardships.

You died by suicide in 2007.

I regret I could not care for you when you were ill.

—

Thank you to artist María Hesse, whose art I am deeply inspired by.  By interpreting and altering her work in my journals, I am able to process anxiety and depression.

“I think copying someone’s work is the fastest way to learn.” – Lynda Barry