A few years ago I bought some cards from MOMA. I ordered a box of cards by the artist Louise Bourgeois called “What is the Shape of this Problem?”
But when the cards arrived, there were two boxes of 18 instead of one. I wasn’t sure I knew that many people who would “get” the shape of the problem. I was busy, I didn’t return the second box, it was too late. When I looked at the cards and their printed sentiments (each fronted by a Louise Bourgeois image)…”The Small Hours” “Repairs in the Sky” “The telephone call from the slammer” I knew they were for one friend…a writer and a maker, a thinker and a reader with a wicked sense of humor. And so I began sending her the cards, at intervals. She would often text a reply. I would text a reply. I would send another card…etc.
And so it went. We sent pictures of openings, of gardens, selfies. We traded book titles, art we’d seen and liked. Through the pandemic years and on…until she got sick. And then we texted about disease and doctors, about hope and no hope, about love and comfort. And selfies. Right to the very end. And what a comfort and a gift to me, as well as a reminder that we are alive every minute until we are not, and that keeping in touch enhances all these minutes of our lives.
Keep in touch.