I was a great dancer in High School. I danced with much energy. Bryan was blown away when he came to Glendon and saw the architectural model I just completed. He knew his friend was a genius – on many levels. I thought about doing window displays, stage and movie models. Being an art director was also on my menu – when I was sixteen! Of course I was a powerful inspiration to Christine. Mark was jealous. He and Trump – Nazis! You can see me lean away from as far as I can. Fucking Jarhead!
At sixteen I went and talked with May Company about doing windows in a new way. The look I got from the woman who did the hiring. I practiced the choreography for my Bolero – for a week. I danced for eighteen minutes.
Two months ago I realized Marilyn stole me from her arch rival I was doing a bust of. This is why she did not look so happy as I danced away. She saw me dancing for Cindy – with my shirt off – the sweat pouring down me.
As I prepare for my second session with my therapist I am seeing most people in my life were jealous of me, including my daughter, her mother, and Christine.
When Marilyn turned sixteen, I danced the Bolero for her. I was poor. I could not afford a gift.
I would listen to this beautiful music with my eyes closed, visualizing my moves. I used to play this music to the painting of Jesus I did, I seeing him march out of the wilderness towards the place where humanity dwell, but, he never arrives. Marilyn, was the love of my life. We put this large painting over her bedroom window, the yellow ochre sky and the black sun, illuminated, my dusty, dusty bearded man, his inner journey, his fathomless soul – intercepted.
Today, Marilyn turns sixty five. On this day I give to you the Balero, a younger man dances, but, my soul will forever be younger, because there was you, my beloved audience, the only audience I ever need.