Step 22: Savor That Strawberry Wine

Yesterday was a weird day that has culminated in me writing this blog post at 2:30am on Friday morning. I make it a point not to spend too much time thinking about days gone by, because the practical side of me can't afford to let my sentimental side take over and waste energy crying buckets. But the past has a way of catching up with you sometimes, as it did to me yesterday afternoon, and I can't seem to compartmentalize it as well as I usually do.

The details are a little fuzzy, but I distinctly remember one of the very first dates with my high school boyfriend was on my 17th birthday in 2002. He took me to the opera to see Faust; he was dressed smartly, and was waiting for me outside the theater with a single red rose. I can remember the little green plastic vial of water it came in, and the chaste kiss we shared before we headed into the theater.

My heart aches at the memory, but I'm not entirely sure if what I'm feeling is sadness over the loss of him, or what he represented. I push the memories away so I can move on with my life, but at the same time I clutch at them tightly, because memories are fleeting and my time with him was important and formidable and so very precious.

Through my tears, I couldn't help but stop and laugh.  Because, in the very definition of irony, I found myself trapped in my own life-imitating-art moment.

Hello... /adele

That's the cover to Volume 8 of The Rising Stars of Manga, which my short graphic story, Strawberry Wine, is featured in. I can't take credit for the plot; it was essentially my interpretation of the Deana Carter song of the same name in illustration form. It was one of my favorite songs growing up, but I never truly appreciated the meaning of either the song or my own work until tonight.

I won't bore you with the details, and the art is painfully amateurish compared to my current skill set, but I'll humor you with the final two pages of the story:

I feel like my 17-year-old self is calling out to me from my past. I wonder what she would think of me now?