Heidi’s brother has muscular dystrophy. She says he has taught her so much through his illness: about the power of difference, about understanding, non-verbal communication and acceptance.
It was a process trying to find a location. We drove around the city looking for interesting cement that wasn’t windy. This happens to be impossible some days in San Francisco! But after a couple hours of fruitless searching I thought of my basement where my housemate, a painter, lets all of his paint drip. It’s beautiful, random and imperfect.
I have my own struggles with ideas of perfection and hearing her explain why she loved someone imperfect was powerful. When we hide ourselves out of fear of not seeming cool, or appearing imperfect, we break a basic human connection. We deny the world a full view of who we are and we lose a chance for others to have a real, authentic experience of our self. It is only when we embrace imperfect that we get to know each other, and our selves more.
When Heidi and I were done we cleaned up the leaves and flowers of “imperfect” but left the painted words. So now I have “I love you because you are†on my basement floor. This deepens the experience for me: to hold an idea of love for someone just because they are. One need not have any other reason other than their simple and pure existence.
Click here to see a portrait of Heidi.