He rang the bell. Some mistake, I thought to myself.
"What address are you looking for?" I asked him.
He read the address off. He was in the right spot in the desert.
"You are Jane Genova?"
So began an afternoon deep-digging into 51 years of memories. The sender is Charlotte Oliwa Toal. She is now an artist in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, about 30 miles from where we started attending college 51 years ago.
We were both in the same Freshman Composition class. One of our chief preoccupations, aside from being critical of the administration, was that anticipation trumps the play-out of any reality.
Later we roomed together. That year there was a sign of the creative paths we were going to take. Charlotte did the graphics and I did the narrative for a book on Keraju the Witch. We gave it to that Freshman Composition professor who had several children. For years they mentioned it as part of their own memory banks.
Today, Charlotte's life is a work of art, from the interior decorating of her home to the kinds of gifts she bestows on us. Her visual sense had put together the juxtaposition of a vase of fresh flowers and the dry, hot desert of Arizona. The experience was likely meant to be provocative. And that it was.
Creativity seems to be the crazy glue which bonds more than a half a century old schoolgirl friendship.