Good Words and an Ode to a Punk

Have you ever had a few words or a conversation with someone that stuck with you, like forever? Those words that pass between us, particularly when we're young, are the words that shape us in various ways. They can be positive or negative words.

Since I began embarking on this artist's journey to recover my creativity a couple of years ago, I have thought much about that. In part because of an exercise in The Artist's Way. Today I am writing about positive conversations that blessed me and stayed with me. I am going to dwell on those good words in honor of a long lost acquaintance whom I only recently discovered had passed away.

V.Z. and I ran around with the same extended group of crazy punk friends sometime during our teens. I can't remember exactly how and where we met. I knew his little sister and hung out with her a bit. We had some other mutual friends. I remember him as a crazy (in a good way) fun-loving guy. Zany antics are what I recall about V.Z.

One night many of us were hanging out and having fun out by a bonfire in a semi-secluded, semi-wooded area. People were coming and going, laughing and running around. If my hazy middle-aged memory serves, it might have been a wooded area that was being cleared for yet another subdivision in Florida. Anyway, that's not important.

I can't remember exactly what we were talking about, just that there was a lot of crazy frolicking and carousing going on, and we were probably having a joking or lighthearted conversation. What's important is that for a few brief minutes V.Z. and I were alone by the fire, and he looked at me and said, "You're not a dumb-dumb girl, are you? You're smart." How do you answer something like that. I was a little stunned.

I had been labeled a 'dumb blonde' in my early teens, and though my hair was darkening over the years, the term stuck. I really struggled with a certain subject in school, and there were circumstances in my home life and past that also contributed to my less than stellar self-esteem. At that time I waffled between teenage rebellion and just doing and acting in ways that I thought people expected me to act because I thought it was easier than being myself. I was so shy and insecure, and I tried to hide that various ways but I was growing, really starting to think for myself and be true to myself. Still, that was somewhat hazy, because I was quite young. Somehow that very small conversation with V.Z. encouraged me. It was like a little light went on amid the b.s. and subterfuge of teen angst and insecurity. Those new muscles I was flexing didn't go noticed by V.Z., he noticed a sliver of the real me and reacted positively and I knew he wasn't trying to scam* me either.

Looking back now, I think that conversation was like a compass, and in a small way, helped me move into a better direction. V.Z. was a good kid when I knew him, may God rest his soul. Thanks for the kind words V, I hope you are resting in peace and rejoicing with God in heaven.

"May the force be with him always."