“Start with what you know, then re-invent it. Art is magic, no argument there, but all art, no matter how strange, starts in the humble everyday. Just don’t be surprised when weird flowers sprout from common soil.” Stephen King Duma Key—How to Draw a Picture (IV)
Below are three stories two drawn from my real life and another completely made up but born from tiny seeds of everyday life.
My First Real Kiss (real life)
When I was 14 I had a desperate crush on a boy. He was a stoner, which for some reason made me like him all the more. Around that time I had a really fuzzy dream about kissing someone while sitting on the ground somewhere. It wasn’t so much what was in the dream that made me remember it and deem it important but it was how I felt in the dream. I felt amazing.
A short time after the dream I finally had the opportunity to talk face to face with this boy. We happened to find ourselves sitting next to each other, on the floor, at my friend’s house. He kissed me and oh my gosh that dream was nothing compared to what it felt like to be in his arms. Butterflies fluttered up and down my body from my toes to my head.
After we finished kissing he gave me an Ozzy Osbourne pin. I kept it and still have it tucked away in an old jewelry box. We started dating. I self-tattooed his initials into my leg. When I went to visit my dad for two weeks in the summer he broke up with me for a 17-year-old with boobs. I was crushed for at least two weeks.
The Pin (fiction)
We were 14. He reached out his hand to mine. I stared at it. I knew his rings well but I hesitated. I stood there frozen. The train tracks were just feet away. We were alone back packs full of food, water, and clothes. He turned completely to me. I turned to him. He took an Ozzy Osbourne pin off of his shirt. I looked down at it. He held it in his hand. His older brother had given it to him. It meant more to him than a pin should and there he was giving it to me. I slowly reached for it turning the tears back down my throat. “Are you sure?” I asked.
He stared at me with those eyes that haunt me still. Pain had been so much a part of his life that his pupils seemed to pulsate with a beat of something that no one would ever understand. This offering I knew was more than he had ever given. I reached out and brushed the tips of his fingers with mine. Just as we touched he clamped his hand shut around the pin. Was that anger that just passed across his face or fear?
Then he brought his fist up to his lips and slipped the pin into his mouth. He smiled with his lips smashed shut. He looked playful. The fear that had been pounding around in my heart ever since we had decided to take our journey together started to unwind. I looked up into his face, stood on my toes, and pressed my lips up against his. He took my hand in his and using his tongue he pushed the pin into my mouth.
