Sunday, 19 July 2015

You can detect the light because there is a shadow behind it; Vous pouvez détecter la lumière, car il y a d’ombre derrière cela; 光が見える のは裏に影があるからこそ


Anyone who happened to stumble upon this blog may think that I was a lucky woman to be living in Paris, so close to the Eiffel Tour that while millions of tourists had to queue up on the Bastille Day and wait all afternoon in the sweltering heat, I had only to step out in the courtyard a minute after I heard the firework to have an unblocked view.  What the person would not know is that I had fallen victim to a crime at my last apartment that this new studio just happened to be on the market to rescue me from a foreseeable further risk.  Therefore, I moved in with a heavy heart, but gradually realized that the place had come with many benefits like electricity and hot water all included despite its rent being nearly half of what I used to pay at the Marais historical district.  It is smaller, but the old room was for two people anyway.


As soon as I got back on my feet, there was this one lady I wished to share the news.  She wrote such a positive but fair and balanced blog that had given me the final push to make the move to Paris from Japan.  I expressed my gratitude in her post and she replied warmly.  Her name was Lisa Taylor Huff and I must put it in the past tense because I discovered last night that she had died of cancer.  I had imagined Lisa watching the firework with her husband while I watched the spectacle in awe, but it turned out she had passed away before the Bastille Day.  She was in her 50’s and way too young to die. 

I was numb for a while.  She sounded so positive and as many patients recover from the illness these days I thought I would have time to write to her again.  My first emotion was regret.  Then I reread her husband’s post which was filled with love for her and all so final that I started to sob.  She was truly gone from this world.  It hurt especially because she had wanted to be a published author, but that did not happen.  Her real-life search for true love and courage to uproot herself from USA in her late 40’s would have been an aspiring book.  The publishers should know that there are many women who missed their timing in life (myself included) that books about late bloomers would have been so encouraging.  But no...Lisa was never meant to be a writer. 

But then I wondered why I was crying so much if her words had not touched my soul though I had never met her in person.  Judging from the tributes written in her FB pages, Lisa had touched many other souls too.  That is what good writers do.  Even in death Lisa left a guidance for me, another childless woman who started writing graphic novels in the late stage of her life.  I may not find a true love like she did, nor be liked by a step son like Lisa was, but I will be living in Paris and Australia (I have recently come to appreciate how much the latter had given me) and keep writing for the sake of it.  No matter where I live, Lisa reminded me that time cannot be taken for granted.  Therefore, I shall postpone my next post until late autumn to work on my graphics.