Wednesday was rainy, so I decided to get to the cafe an hour early. A former camper of mine from 2008 was visiting LA, DM'd me months ago asking if we could meet up. She's an artist too, she said. I suggested my favorite patio. It's where I take everyone from out of town. It feels like a movie in that green little garden of twinkle lights and wire seats. But in bad weather it becomes something else--a cramped, muggy bungalow. I snag a corner table and an Italian soda. I write a bunch of emails about my play. I recognize the girl as soon as she steps in the building even though she has a lot of piercings now. I get her a poppyseed muffin and a brookie for me.
It's so easy to talk to the camper. It helps she wasn't in my cabin, so in my head I have maybe a single flash of her in my drama class. We also discover we are in the middle of a very small club: queer artists who grew up going to religious summer camp. We're able to discuss so much, so quickly, with all kinds of shorthands and inside jokes. She's thinking about moving here, and I am honest with her--the careers are kind of over. ...But the community is very big and the sun really does shine most of the time.
I rush to catch the bus for a 4:40 mall movie. There are, like, three showings left of The Moment, and I feel very strongly I must see this film in a theatre. I arrive a little early, take a lap around the fountain, get a kids combo popcorn and Sprite. I sit in my favorite seat, the back row corner, and enjoy the movie immensely. I also remember there's half a brookie in my purse. I eat it. Puhg picks me up on the corner by the Cheesecake Factory. It's drizzling, and I'm eager to sit on the balcony, smelling the pine trees.
At night I think about how I told the camper one of the worst parts of the industry is how everyone is your friend, which means, actually, kind of, no one is your friend. It's confusing and sad. I will probably never get it. The Moment grapples with the same theme. What are relationships inside capitalistic-driven art?
The camper asked me to tell her what I thought of Charli XCX's masterpiece. She foreshadowed, "It was kind of about...what you just told me." I emailed her Thursday agreeing,
yep. I added--
"Happy to serve as an artistic sounding board anytime. We are in a TINY club!"
She wrote back, ending with,
"Would love to stay in touch in this tiny club <3 I’ll absolutely reach out in my future visits to come too. Hope writing goes well today!"At 5:34 I ended our communication,
"I think we’ll be seeing other again soon, a hunch!"
At 7:30 I made my way to the local gay bar for a socialists of LA meeting. I walked in and was greeted! Immediately! By this former camper! She raised her arms in surprise! She and her girlfriend were at that same bar, coincidentally, watching The Traitors. We hugged. She pointed to her phone. "You said we'd see each other soon and here we are!" Here we are. Here we always are.
