Alesia and I have known each other for several years. We first met eyes in the hallway of the school where I worked and both of our kids attended. There was some sort of cosmic “knowing” twinkle in our eyes. We are the same sort of mischief, it signaled to each of us. We both read each others’ blogs, found each other on Instagram and the memes, at all hours of the night, began to fly.
Today marked the third time we’d spent time together in real life. The first was her, dressed as my limo driver meeting me at the airport late at night on my arrival home from Korea. The second was accompanying her to get her blood drawn where a whimsical guitar player serenaded those of us in the waiting room. The third time was today.
What was she doing on her Wednesday, I wanted to know. She could meet me after sculpting class. Or….posited I…I could just go with you. BRILLIANT. I know nothing about sculpting. It’ll be perfect! I’ll bring my camera, my curiosity and my lunch bag with a cinnamon egg wrap and 2 dates. At the last minute I grabbed play dough with the bright green lid. It seemed absolutely appropriate.
I walked into an alternate universe of a sculptors’ workshop and I was captivated. It felt like being in someone’s brain. John Leon, the resident grandpa, sculptor and teacher of such, greeted me and invited me to make myself at home which I did not hesitate to do. “Hi!” I brightly said to the room of friendly faces. “Do you mind if I talk to you while you work?” And with that, I went to each person and sat with them and asked them the same question. What are you in this life?
I met Scott, a soft spoken librarian archivist and Eileen, who used to run a man’s hair and styling salon in downtown Cincinnati for years. There was Annie, a bright eyed mother of 3 children with fabulous names and a therapist and Bonita, a former dancer. Alesia sat shaping her mermaids’ eyes, something she said she’d been working on for longer than she’d planned. But, her mermaid needed to see and Alesia was the author of non-wonky sight.
I sat raptly in front of them and watched their hands move across the clay and listened to excerpts of their lives. The sound of quiet jazz wafted in and around the room like it had its’ own paintbrush. In the warm weather, they lift the large garage door at one end and let the outside in but today we had a soft fan with a statue standing guard. We could hear the song of a tufted titmouse just outside the windows.
Two hours passed like a wrinkle in time and everyone began to pack up their things. I looked once more round the room, feeling as if I’d been allowed into the magical land of Behind the Scenes, where the elves of beautiful things make the world a most lovely place. And now I know Scott, Annie, Eileen, John and Bonita, creating stories with their lives and their clay. I looked back over my shoulder one last time and thanked the God of details for giving me today. <3
