When the coroner left with the police, and I had politely asked my model to leave the apartment, I sat there alone in the living room, crumpled into this neat mess of cotton, denim, and numb skin in the only chair in the apartment. In the deafness of my head, I was in this massive desert looking desperately in the horizon for the eventual flood. I knew it was going to come, the eventual emotions, the severity of it, but for the time being, there .. was just nothing but an arid expansion.
Rewind 5 hours earlier, and I’m breaking the lock of TJ’s bathroom door with an envelope cutter to find him dead from OD’ing on heroin, a substance he was 90 days clean from, but struggled since his early twenties with. I, myself, was only 49 days sober at this point. Trying to recall this is somewhat vague as my brain tends to operate like it did as a kid, pushing all the terror and fear into a closet with a skeleton key that I don’t…. really have access to anymore. I do remember throwing myself down to him, trying to nudge, and then slap and hit him awake.. but he had been gone for hours. There are flashes of the stretcher, the medics, the police, and the coroner buzzing around the apartment like hornets… but for the most part, I began to severely withdraw from reality from the shock, that nothing made sense until everyone had left the building.
After 15 years of me, running after him like a lost love sick puppy around the country, I found myself running after him into this dead end of our bathroom
.. and that was it. test
So there I was. It was just me, and the muffled sounds of the helicopters circling hollywood boulevard outside. Occasionally I’d hear the sounds of bass blaring from one of the apartments, and aspiring 20 something drunk models and actresses careening, giggling against the hallways outside my apartment. I, slothily got up after sitting in a chair and staring at the wall for 4 hours, and walked into my bedroom to grab a blank canvas off the wall, and dragged it with one hand into the living room.
Because if there is one thing I know, is that sometimes, the only way I can communicate, or the only way I can understand something, is through painting.