Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts

Sunday, February 9, 2014

REFRIGERATOR FRIENDS




In my experience the litmus test for judging the depth of a friendship is the refrigerator, or more accurately, access to the appliance.  With a few exceptions, only close family and friends can wander into each other’s kitchen and open the refrigerator to look for something to eat or drink.

In my lifetime I can count perhaps 3 friendships where there was uninhibited access to the fridge in each others kitchen.

Friday, January 3, 2014

FRIENDSHIP

-->Anais Nin put it beautifully when she said, "Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."

Defying the obvious overlapping and gray areas, I find it interesting to think of friendships as they fit the following catagories:

The timeless or forever friend
The “what if” friend – If only we had more time to get to know each other….
The convenient - circumstantial friend
The not quite friend
The spiritual friend
The good time friend
The friend who makes me laugh
The refrigerator friend
The family friend
The shared or mutual friend
The mentor friend
The opposite sex friend
The colleague friend
The common interest friend
The life event friend

In my seventy-four years I have had friends move in and out of my life, the course of our friendship determined by our shifting circumstances.  Most of the time we have lost touch with one another, relying on memories to sustain the kinship.  Recently, with the aid of modern social networks, I have been able to re-connect with some of these friends from the past, and that is pure delight.


This was a very unique group of friends.  They visited me (hat and sunglasses) when I was diagnosed with measles in my sophomore year of high school.  I think they were hoping to catch the measles bug so they could stay home from school.  That did not happen.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

A FIFTIETH REUNION

Last week I attended my 50th college class reunion.



SAM

I saw him walking with his wife about 30 yards away, making their way to the registration tent. I couldn’t make out the faces but knew in an instant that it was my old roommate. Sam is about 6 feet tall, and his gait and posture are distinct enough for me to recognize them after 50 years. He holds himself very erect, with his head high, but not too high, and his gait is measured but sure, with arms held quietly by his side. As soon as he recognized me a shy smile came to his face, which radiates quiet authority and competence rendered totally disarming by a veil of shyness.

Sam and I shared a room with 2 other men in our sophomore year at college. We were both pre-med students and although we went our different ways socially we shared a lot of the same classes. While I was rather outgoing, Sam was quiet and reserved. Sam was also brilliant; I don’t know this for a fact but would venture to say that he never got anything less than an A in anything he did.

We had no contact after graduation even though we both went to medical schools in Philadelphia (as did another of our roommates from that school year.) I knew he specialized in cardiology but did not know he has been practicing in the Boston area for all of these years.

I don’t know if was our shared profession, or the fact that he was one of the first of my associates at college (I transferred to LVC in my sophomore year), but I was absolutely delighted to see him after all these years. I enjoyed meeting his wife and hearing about his family. I know he must be an outstanding cardiologist, and I admire and respect his accomplishments. I could not help thinking…I wish I had made an effort to stay in touch with him…we may not have become “buddies”, but I think I would have enjoyed the relationship.

Sam made the reunion a worthwhile experience for me.



My experience with Sam has set off a cascade of thoughts about time and relationships that I hope to explore in future posts.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

ALEX



We were seat mates on the flight from Rome to Chicago, and as seat mates often do, we engaged in the usual exchange of civil pleasantries: are you here on business, where is home, what do you do, etc.? When I mentioned I was an artist his eyes brightened, and he proceeded to tell me all about his love of art, at which point my eyes brightened. I soon learned that he had a broad and deep understanding of art and had visited almost all of the major art museums in the world (his work requires him to travel frequently and extensively.) At this point we had all that was needed to establish a good 11 hour transatlantic relationship. But there was more. I explained my transition from medicine to art and he responded by telling me about his younger son who is almost finished his medical studies (wants to be a neurologist) but whose real passion is music and his fantasy is to write critical reviews of jazz music. The fact that we shared the same political and social views was simply the icing on the cake.

Somewhere over northern Europe or the Atlantic I showed Alex my portfolio and pics of my work on my laptop. He took his time looking at each piece of art, and dismissed my feeble murmurs about boring him assuring me he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and for the next several hours I sat and listened to his far ranging comments on my work....he told me which ones he liked, or really liked, and which ones did nothing for him...which pieces reminded him of another artist or another artists style and always taking the time to tell me that it was not meant as a criticism or to diminish my work...he described his reactions to a piece of work and what it was that evoked the response. He gave me a critical response to an extensive body of my work that was unlike anything I ever experienced. It was both informative and affirming, and quite simply an amazing experience.

Alex “knows art”. He is well grounded in many of the fundamentals of composition, color, etc., and has an extensive knowledge of art history, artists, and their work. He is someone who lives art, who emerges himself in a painting, probing to understand the work and his response to it. He is capable of talking intelligently and personally about a painting.

This is in sharp contrast to myself. I have little knowledge of art history, and give little thought to why I like of dislike a particular work of art. I am impatient with art, and when visiting a museum or gallery walk through it at far too brisk a pace. I am aware of my attitude and view it as a serious shortcoming. I find it difficult to talk about or to explain my own art and have given up trying to understand why I create the art that I do. I just do it, and that is all that really matters to me. I especially dislike the artist’s statements that many galleries and dealers ask for. I have made them, always feeling that they were insufficient and somewhat superficial.

Perhaps this is why Alex’s comments on my work, the good and the not so good, were so fascinating and delightful to hear. They were thoughtful and they were honest. I truly believe that he enjoyed looking at the work as much as I enjoyed showing it. The 11 hours wasn’t nearly as long as it would have been without this encounter.

I think I have found a friend.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

FRIENDS


detail from oil pastel - Distant light

Yesterday I surprised an old friend with a phone call. It has been at least 15 years since we last saw one another and it was oh so grand to hear his voice again. Pat is one of the few people I know that can make me laugh just by thinking about him. I love talking to him; I know I will laugh and that he will, in turn, bring out the comic in me. I think we share a gene for a specific sense of humor, or perhaps we simply disarm one another; whatever the reason, it is impossible to talk with Pat and not feel good ( similar to my experiences with my high school classmate, Stanley).

One day, while working in the ER, I called Pat and told him to come down to see me. I had a poster I created of our local Italian Festival that I wanted to give him. He did, and during our talk he mentioned the chest pain he had been experiencing. The more we talked about it the more concerned I became, and eventually I urged him to sign in as a patient so I could run a few studies. Fortunately the EKG and blood work were normal and we both felt relieved. I saw him a few weeks later and he said “...Jesus Bill, that free poster cost me over $300.00 in ER bills!”, and we both laughed. At least I THINK he laughed.

Our relationship was limited to doctor-patient and work place encounters. The friendship did not extend beyond that. Thinking about it now I realize what I may have missed out on, the opportunity to develop a deeper relationship with a person I liked and admired. And more than that, to have as a dear and close friend someone who makes you laugh and feel good is truly a blessing. Friends like Pat and Stanley should never be taken for granted. I am grateful for the time I have been able to spend with them.