I was in love with an artist

An Abstract Expressionist

Who predictably owned a smart loft

In New York City

We met when he painted my walls sky blue

Or at least I thought he had

As all colours are black white and grey to me

I had lost my sense of colour

When Flight 143 crashed over Arizona

My memories remembered some early colours

But that was all as nothing else had travelled

I had retained my sight black white and grey

Which I was eternally grateful for

My disability did not really inhibit me

I lived a normal life and had a rewarding job

Dirk told me that he had different coloured eyes

I believed him although he was something of a joker

Like many girls I was obsessed with my hair

Short long straight curly with a fringe or without

But the colour of my hair remained constant

I never changed the colour although tempted

Wear any colour as long as it is black

I think that it was Henry Ford

It was my favourite quote

As it was so simple

In June Dirk and I are visiting Cape Cod

Followed by his third at the Blake Galleries

I am looking forward to this event

But regret that I have been robbed of its full impact

Although I do imagine the magazine in my dreams




Anne Blake