Everyone dies, of course - that's part of life. But sometimes I think about some friends of mine who were gone too soon. And today, someone sent me a message asking about one of my friends who died a few years ago. She didn't know. It made me think of him and his incredible talent as a photographer. And it made me wonder where I put the picture he gave me. I had it framed and it followed me everywhere, From New York to Europe. And then, in one of the many moves from Margaux to Lyon to Paris to Behoust to Montchauvet or to Mantes, it disappeared. It's most likely in the armoire with the stacks of photo albums. Or somewhere else. Lost, maybe. I hope not. I can close my eyes and see it - a winter scene with a flowing stream sculpting the ice and snow. He had a stamp, a Chinese symbol in red, that he used to sign his phtotos.
I don't need to close my eyes to imagine my friend. He had a round face and laughing eyes. Even when he wasn't laughing his eyes laughed for him. He loved to joke and he loved to teach. We met when we were teens. He took some pictures of me for my first modelling book. We lived next door to each other in New York City. He was funny, kind, and talented. He gave me books on philosophy to read, like "Sophie's World", and "Zen and the Art of Archery".
He came to visit my family in St Thomas, and I still have a charm he gave me for luck. The last time we met was in NYC, I went with my twins, and we went out to lunch together then went sight seeing. He took us to the Twin Towers and then to Times Square. "Your kids can't leave the city without seeing Times Square lit up at night," he said. He was right. And now he's gone.
So many things make me think of him - my gold charm, books on philosophy, photos of snow. And now, today, a message from someone saying, "Hey Jen, I was in NYC and thought of Sing-Si. What's he doing these days?" And I had to write back - "Sad news...".
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| Photo by Sing-Si Schwartz |
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