I consider myself fortunate for I have met, and have been invited into the mind, and dare I say heart, of a true artist.
I was able to be in the presence of greatness. Of pure beauty. Of pure passion. Of conviction. Of desire. Of intellect. Of dreams.
She first met me in what now seems like another life, for I was truly a different person. She has seen me grow from afar, peeking in every now and again to check up on me, offering words of wisdom where she saw fit. I'd like to think she saw me for who I could become, and who I grew into, before I realized my own potential.
In her art I found hope and beauty. I found truth and courage. Intelligence and love. I witnessed grace.
To call her a blogger seems almost demeaning at this point as to me it would cheapen the words with which she so eloquently painted a portrait of life.
She is not gone from here in the truest sense of the word for her shadow, and her memory will forever linger.
And maybe one day she will read these words and recognize that they are indeed for her, and know that she did in fact reach, and touch, one soul that was not her own.
And for that I will forever be in her debt.