From Out of Nowhere

I've been working furiously on my dissertation chapter and have it almost to the point of writing. I'm TAing for Doyle next quarter and am preparing for that, in addition to the fact that I've learned David's going to be in that class. Heh. Things are sympatico with him; no harm, no foul. Should be fun.... She's teaching The Marrow of Tradition alongside Marxist theory, art history, and music. I've read almost all of what she's assigning, except for Strange Fruit, which is a critical look at Billie Holiday's song as a site of political, collective, and personal trauma and how that gets mapped out in the public imagination. So, I'm preparing for that....


And then there is Kyle. Out of left field, totally out of nowhere: Kyle. People tell you that things like this happen, and I have always been a skeptic and pessimist; and then he walked in....

I met Kyle through mutual friends, though he does not live in Riverside. He's a graphic designer and works at Filter Magazine in L.A., which means lots of free music and shows for me! Heh. He's also a photographer, a former soccer player, and is finishing his degree in graphic design at Fullerton, as well as sending out his design portfolios to major design firms in Seattle, San Francisco, NYC, etc. He's well traveled, internationally and domestically, and is smarter than me in many ways, yet is as interested in what I do as I am in what he does; so, we have this amazing exchange of unfamiliar territories.

For instance, I had no idea what constitutes graphic design as a field, so he took me to the Pacific Design Center in L.A. this past week to see the first public release of Pentagram Papers' design work, one of the top two design firms in the world. Let's just say that the experience was sort of like an academic conference, but with better food and better clothes. Seriously, imagine arty, impeccably dressed academics all rounded up, drinking wine and talking design (architecture, packaging, furniture). That's some hot shit. We then went to Toi, this fun little Thai restuarant, where the decor is rock and punk rock, and they were screening Purple Rain. Fantastic.

They say when you least expect it, it happens. He walked in and I lost my breath. Seriously. Funny how all of the shit we put ourselves through paves the way for moments like these.... There is no anxiety or wondering or game playing or questions. Just being, and relishing, and reveling, and cultivating.

Crazy.

Here's my favorite picture of him (I don't really know why), taken in a Paris hotel room. He is lovely, in every possible respect.