Scattered Memories

I am reaching deep for words–for a train of thought–for the perfect thing to say–except I can’t find it. All I can say is that I will always remember. I will remember sitting in the sun, taking in the summer sea breeze, and eating a grilled Panini at Heather’s Café. I will remember when I was little, catching your eye, shyly waving as I made my way through stacks of books, dodging authors and shuffling through the crowd. I will remember dressing up and coming to your art show, taking in the vast detail of tiny cities and intricate features that made your gourds unique and beautiful–one of a kind. I will remember your enthusiasm, your character, your grace. I will think of all the support and guidance that you gave along the way, your encouragement, and most of all your friendship. Sharing stories, sharing food, sharing art will be just a few of the many things that I will miss. And no matter how long I stay in New York City, I will always have your apple to remind me of this chapter, to remind me of the true meaning of beauty and craftsmanship, and to remind me of you.

This cup is for Klaus.