Darkness and Tea

Darkness and Tea. An extremely talented young guy, but close to an edge. None of us knew quite what that edge was, which made his work all the more compelling. I was going to say "neither of us" but it did really involve the whole group. Delightful drawings that expanded everyone's sense of things--a celebration of a quadrant of the imagination. But there were other stories--running naked through the streets, near home--or attempts at a commercial art school (where I knew they'd try to impose only more order.) A large box of some kind--he'd come in wearing it, as a robo-monster costume. It expanded and unfolded, and his own person was revealed. Not a clear memory, and saying his name could be hurtful. But I was also very fond of him--acted as a kind of confidant--took him in, so to speak, as an ally. I never knew if this should be my role. A class could be much more cut and dried. Maybe neither of us needed it. But he'd write me again, and I'd try to be there.

This all came as my own life was getting difficult--the years around 2011--and we lost touch. I think the last visit was when he arrived at my office with his mother. I liked her a lot--her poise, her independent air, but also the way she clearly cared so much for him. Wanted to thank me, in his presence, perhaps? She brought the bag above, filled with packages of fine tea. Elegant and thoughtful...

Mauricio loves good tea. I must share this with him. Maybe in some way he'll be part of the continued healing...?


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