Living Sculptures

Phone conversations:

Jamie and I talk about making art and about aging. She's not that old yet, but her glorious red hair has been a big part of her identity and now it's going. She hasn't turned completely gray, but her shining copper tresses have rusted into a duller shade so she's decided to make the most of it before it goes away. "My hair has become a museum," she tells me. "I try to wear it in different styles every day to celebrate that part of me before it's gone forever. Living sculpture. That's my art right now."

Robert and I talk about his train film. "I'm editing it again," he says. "But you've already edited it several times. I thought you were finished."  "I was, but the film festival committee rejected it. So I'm working on it again."

Ted and I talk about love. "Were you happy when you were dating me?" he asks. "Yes. Very happy, but being a tragic romantic, I needed to find other men to make me miserable."  "Of course," he says, not missing a beat, "It's not serious unless he makes you cry."

We talk about politics. "You know what the Golden Rule means, don't you?" "No," I say, waiting for the punch line. "It means that the people with the gold are the ones who make the rules."