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penny-p-pen · 6 years ago

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Simon

Knowing Eyes

They say eyes are the windows to the soul, I first fell in love with his eyes, so I guess also quickly fell in love with his soul. Those eyes of his, so warm yet so bold, they always seemed to be wanting something, wanting something more out of everyone, more out of life, he just wanted more.

No. More isn’t the right word; he wanted something better, more acceptances, a greater willingness to change. Those eyes wanted to see people grow, watch them make decisions that would better someone else’s life, better the world, and yet, they were never demanding, never glaring or cold. Those eyes of his looked at you, looked past the physical you and looked at your soul. They pleaded with it, yearned for that soul to be a beautiful one, one that caused change, he wanted that from everyone, but I think he wanted it from me the most.

He saw into me, saw the timid little mouse of a man I was. Saw that there was something more I wanted from life. Those mesmerizing eyes looked into mine and somehow knew I was here for something important. That I held a far greater purpose then I would ever allow myself to believe. His eyes knew from the beginning, they needed no convincing, he knew I was meant to be something more. His belief in me was confirmed before I could even allow myself to dream that I could believe in myself.

So much had led us to that moment, allowed us to be there, staring soul to soul, heart to heart. Somehow time’s plan allowed us to be there, together and in that moment on that snowy night, that moment of bliss, I was finally free. Lip to lip he set my soul free and gave me the courage I thought I could never have. I pulled him in closer and smiled into it. I was finally free.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, a big event can only happen because of smaller ones, ones that a set a ball in motion without anyone knowing. Those small events called life are important, to me and to him…

A Latte and a Laugh

We met in a coffee shop, both of us were laughing as the barista messed up name after name, saying strange variations of names that shouldn’t have been too hard, K-all for Kyle, Laura turned into Bora and m’lady was supposed to be Melody.

Marcus was the first to talk, first to start the ball rolling, he started the first conversation we’d ever have, started our connection.

“I’m lucky; they can’t really mess up my name. Well I suppose they could say it in an odd way but Marcus… pretty hard to mess up.”

I admired how easily he started up the conversation, I was a stranger, he didn’t need to talk to me, but he did. My mouth opened before my brain could spiral into self-doubt. “You are lucky. I’ve had a few uh…. Interesting… mess ups on Simon. Gotten Simone, Siman and uh… heh… seamon…”

He turned to face me, blinking in silence, my mind raced, ‘stupid,’ I thought. ‘I’m so stupid, why did I just tell a him all th-“

He burst out laughing. His nose crinkling as his laughter came out louder, a warm and genuine sound. “They messed up Simon? SIMON? Damn man, I am so sorry.” He set a light brown hand on my shoulder, bending forward, trying to get over his fit of laughter. He dried those tears you get from laughing from his eyes taking a deep breath. “I am so sorry man.”

He was about to say something more when the barista called out the next name, “Mareus? Is there a Mareus?... Grande vanilla cappuccino with skim milk?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as Marcus let out a small huff, “guess I spoke to soon, they canin fact mess up Marcus.”

She called another name, “Simon? Peppermint latte for Simon?” Marcus and I looked at each other, shaking our heads and smiling; they got my name right for once and oddly enough messed up Marcus’s. We stood there for a minute, not wanting to part ways. Marcus shrugged, “well enjoy Simon, I’ll see you around.” He walked off, leaving to continue his day.

I stood there, grinning like a goof, maybe this was what happiness was like, and maybe this was what confidence was like.

Sketches

Days passed and those days turned into weeks, I didn’t see Marcus again until I went back to the coffee shop.

I sat in the back corner, soft chairs with large fluffy pillows that faced a window, I loved this back corner. It was always warm and always empty. It was like a little nook, a private place for me to relax. I sat there, watching people walk by, pulling out my sketch book; I pressed my pencil’s eraser to my lips, looking for inspiration. There was an elderly couple across the road, sitting on their usual park bench. He always held her hand in his; he looked like he did it so gently, as if she was an old china doll that needed to be treated with care. Her cheeks were always rosy and her eyes always bright and full of love, full of life. I glanced down the blank page and back up at the couple and started sketching.

“…That’s really good.”

His voice startled me. I looked up, not knowing my eyes had gone wide in fear, not realizing my hands had tightly latched onto the book and pencil. He took a step back, raising his hands in front of his chest. “Hey… hey it’s okay.”

I blinked a few times, “Marcus?”

He nodded, smiling a little, “thought you almost forgot who I was. Sorry if I startled you.” He sat down next to me, still looking at my work. “It really is nice Simon, you like drawing?”

I nodded, “sort of. I’m really no good at it but it’s always been a fun hobby.”

He snapped his fingers, causing me to jump slightly, “you should come to the art class I’m teaching at the Rec Center!”

“Wha’?”

“The art class I teach! It’s a beginner level painting class; we’re starting the new course next week. The first one seemed to be really popular but there’s still room in this one! Come on Simon, please.”

His eyes were sparkling, two emeralds, two dazzling orbs that sucked me in and would never let me go, and I felt myself nod, “okay…” Those eyes gleamed brighter, drawing me closer, slowly melting my fears while building up my confidence.

“That’s great! We meet on Thursday’s at 6:00! If you paint half as good as you sketch- well you’ll be a natural!”

As quickly as he came into my corner of the world he left, leaving me blinking in silence, ‘what had I just committed to?’

Art and the Heart

I stared up at the large brick building, gulping slightly. The place had always intimidated me, it seemed too large, too imposing, and someone like me couldn’t make it in there. Sure it was a ‘community cente’r; sure anyone could go in but someone like me… I knew I would be eaten alive by people who were better than me. I was about to turn around, about to jump back into my car and drive away, go back into me little home and hide, but I walked right into him.

“Hey Simon, you ready?”

“I- I uh… well Marcus maybe I shouldn’t-“

“You’ll be fine Simon, come on!”

He took my hand and pulled me in not allowing me time to protest. I couldn’t think, I was running on auto pilot, just following where he pulled me. His hand felt like it could manage a strong grip but the flesh of his palm was so soft. I shook my head, “nuh”, ‘you can’t be falling for him Simon.’

“You say something Simon?”

“N-no- I uh… I-“

“Hey, you’ll be fine; no one is expected to be perfect their first time painting!”

He pulled me into a large room, gesturing me to sit at a table near a large window. “Best seat in the house. Even at night that window can provide you inspiration.”

I nod, sitting down and waiting for everyone else to file in, waiting for the class to start, hoping that I’d just be able to blend in. They soon did, Marcus started teaching, telling us to paint from the heart, to not question our instincts, to believe in ourselves and then he set us free, told us to just, paint.

I hesitated with every brush stroke, even with his words fresh in my mind I couldn’t seem to let go of my fears and just let my brush move freely across the canvas. Marcus walked around the room, stopping at every canvas, giving advice and praise, but never criticism. He came to mine, watching my motions with curious eyes.

“Having trouble getting a certain color?”

I nodded sheepishly, “yeah, I want to paint the sky, it’s well… it was an inky black but a black that looked blue with… with silver from the stars… I’m sorry that probably doesn’t make any sen-“

His hand was next to mine, gently taking the palette knife out of my hand, mixing black and blues. “Try that.”

I blinked a few times, looking at the color; it seemed perfect on the palette, so hesitantly I dip my brush, closing my eyes as I let it sweep across the canvas. I peak at the canvas, hesitantly cracking one eye open. The color was exactly what I wanted. I turned to see Marcus smiling at my expression. “That the color you wanted?”

I nodded, “yes, its perfect thank you.”

“I’m glad, now for that silver; mix a little grey with a lot of white. We have an almost clear color that leaves a shine, which should work.”

I nodded again, “th-thanks.”

I’m smiling, the rest of the painting seems to come naturally, I’m so transfixed by watching it progress in front of me that I’m startled when Marcus addresses the class again.

“Alright guys, 8:00, we have to start cleaning up now. If you didn’t finish don’t worry. Leave you canvas where it is and you can cover your paints with the lid the palettes came with.”

“Simon?...”

I jump as I turn around, not expecting to hear anyone other than Marcus call my name, My heart seems to jump and sink at the same time. “…Daniel?”

“Surprised you still remember me.”

I hate it, his voice is cold, his eyes, once full of joy were now a stormy grey. They now held so much sorrow, a sorrow that as much as I wanted to, I could never understand and never take away.

“What do you mean? We dated for like- five years, I- I really can never forget you.”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “Seems like you’ve moved on though.”

He glanced towards Marcus, making his point painfully clear.

‘Is it that obvious?”

“Have to be pretty damn blind to not notice. Finally getting comfortable with your sexuality? Finally gonna actually show love when out in public?”

I let out a small growl that sounded more like a whimper, “Danny, you know that’s not fair I-‘

“First,” I notice his hands ball into fists, “don’t ‘Danny’ me. And second, it is fair to bring up that you never wanted to be affectionate with me when we were in public!”

I couldn’t argue, I was terrified to even hold Daniel’s hand when we were out together, and now here I was blushing when Marcus walked by. “And for that I’m sorry Daniel. I really am, I- I was scared, both for my safety and for your own.”

“Why did you leave me then? We could’ve handled the hatred together.”

“We- we were going different ways Danny. You wanted to leave this town, go make a better life in the city and I- well you know I like the familiar, I wanted things to stay stable. You were so set to leave and all I wanted to do was stay…. Why didn’t you leave?”

He didn’t answer; we were silent as people started filing out. Daniel finally shrugged, “things just- didn’t work out. Place I was gonna stay fell through, couldn’t find work and then the... my… I- well things just got fucked up. So why are you here Simon? You never wanted anyone to see your art. So why take a class where it’s likely a lotta people will see it?”

“Marcus sort of convinced me, he... he told me I was good… told me I should come and I… He pulled me in before I could chicken out. What about you? Thought you were never one for anything creative”

“My fucking housemate made me join up. Thought I needed to get out of the house and do things. Said it was bad for me to just sit at home. Connor’s such an idiot, an art class isn’t going to help me with anything.”

‘Come on Danny I bet he isn’t that bad, and I’m sure this class will help you.”

I reached out to comfort him, but he quickly slapped my hand away. “DON’T TOUCH ME! AND DON’T CALL ME DANNY! That part of us is gone Simon! Don’t start bringing what’s dead back to life!” He pushed past me, fuming and angry. I watched him leave, watched his back as he headed for the door, watched as he seemed to limp a little with every few steps. “…Daniel.”

Marcus walked over to me, “hey, no tears, it’s alright.”

I blushed, mumbling as I dried a tear, not realizing it had fallen.

Marcus sighed, “Daniel doesn’t mean to be like that. A lot has happened in the last few years.”

“How… How do you know?”

“Connor and I are pretty close,” he laughed, “actually dated for a few months. Didn’t work but we remain close… Daniel doesn’t want to hurt you Simon. And I promise I won’t hurt you either.” He took hold of my hands smiling warmly, silently convincing me that I would be okay.

He walked out with me, heisting to leave. “You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah I’ll be okay. I’ll see you next week Marcus.”

“I’m looking forward to it Simon.” He smiled as he got into his car and drove away.

#detroit become human daniel #detroit become human #detroit become human simon #detroit become human markus

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annaexplorations · 7 years ago

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Stalking a Place

I think that the Sol courtyard could explain one thing that Cresswell talked about in his piece “Genealogy of Place.” He talks about how geographers often think of “place” as a set thing. While sitting in this courtyard multiple times throughout the day, I realized that the original geographers wouldn’t be able to see the differences. Cresswell writes “[t]hroughout these debates geographers such as Seamon, Pred, Thrift, and Massey have insisted that places should not be thought of in terms of stasis and boundedness but are instead the product of processes that extend well beyond the confines of a particular place.” Sol’s yard is the product of the people within it. It changes forms throughout the day. Sometimes it is a silent place to talk to parents; other times it is a raucous place with music playing and people laughing at 11 PM.

I decided to sit in the Sol courtyard and observe my surroundings. I knew there is not much greenery in this courtyard. It is mostly concrete with some evergreen trees. Unlike the other two high rise quads, Gleason and Nathaniel Rochester Hall, Sol’s courtyard has no grass. I love the concrete used in it. There are two large circles. The first is next to Gibson. The 4 Pi tag is on either end of the circle on the wall. There is a tree in the middle of the sitting area. Across the quad next to NRH is another large circle, except this is a fully filled in circle. Spanning three layers, the circles allow you to be on the top of the world. You can see each corner of the quad while standing on top of these concentric concrete circles. On a “normal” day, you will see at least one hammock set up between two trees next to the circles on NRH Side. Otherwise, you will see four or five hammocks stacked between the same two trees with at least six or seven people in all four or five. To get out, they have to climb down each hammock one by one by flipping themselves over so they can fall into the next one under them. I watched wondering how it felt to be the bottom one knowing there were four or five people above me just laying. I also wondered what it felt to be the top knowing I couldn’t get out until everybody else had moved. Each person had their own place in that stack, and no position is better than another.

While sitting and watching, I also noticed just how many people walked by blasting music through a loud speaker. There were at least six people walking by blasting some kind of rap or hip hop music. On the other hand, there are often ukulele players hanging out in the circle as well. Sean, a resident of Gibson hall, goes out in the morning before anyone else is awake to play music on his Ukulele. Sometimes he will have buddies listening or playing with him, but he is often alone. I see him many mornings on my way to Gracie’s playing his ukulele.

~Sean Rembecki Honors Computer Engineer ’22 ~ Sean with his teal ukulele. Playing Wonderwall by Oasis

Another girl was talking with her mother on the phone. I didn’t hear what they were taking about, I just remember her saying “mom.” She seems to go there often to talk to her mom, so its possible that is her special place. I know that I often go to the tables outside the back of Gibson if I ever need to talk to my mom and don’t want to bother my roommate.

One night I wanted to go somewhere quiet, and I assumed that a quad outside of a dorm would be relatively quiet, especially at night. That is not the case. This is when I heard multiple speakers walking through and saw people riding bikes and skateboards. Three large men were doing tricks on bikes up and down the concrete walls and curbs of the quad. I worried one would fall and break their head open because they didn’t have helmets. I did recognize them though. They were the same boys to backed a group of zombies into a restricted building because of their bike riding. The zombies were yelled at. It was only after a few seconds that someone spoke up explaining that they didn’t want to get hit by the three bike-riding boys. The moderators quickly went back to moderating and tried to make sure the boys did not interfere with the rest of the game.

Back to the Sol’s quad, a girl borrowed her friends long board and started to ride it. She didn’t get very far since skateboards have a definite learning curve. As I saw her practicing, she seemed to be able to get a little farther each time. You would not think that the dorm side quads would necessarily be a place to learning, but that is exactly what she was using it for.

Speaking of learning in this quad, the same night, a few computer science students were sitting on the top tier of the circle. It was maybe 11 PM on a Tuesday night, and they were trying to figure out how to do their CS lab due in an hour. Two boys crowded around a girl’s computer trying to see why her code was doing what it was doing. I don’t know if it was because her code was correct, or because her code was the broken one. Even through the coding, there was still laughing. They chatted and laughed together. I could not hear them very well at all. Only after about 10 minutes was I able to figure out it was computer science homework.

The stack of circles gets a lot of love. I think people like to sit on top of it and feel like they are on top of the world. I love sitting on the circles. The top tier is the easiest place to sit and talk to others to learn about them. My personal connection to the top tier is a Humans Vs. Zombies connection. Everyday after a night mission two zombie friends and I walked over to Sol’s, got ice cream, Cookie dough ice cream to be exact, from Sol’s underground, and waited for humans to come home while on top of this circle. We tagged at least two or three humans in this position. However, not only was I with these two really good friends of mine, we made new friends too. I became friends with people I never would have met if I did not sit on that top tier circle. I feel a nice connection to the circle because of that. I sit here watching others pass wondering who of them saw the six of us on top of that rock at 1 AM during those HVZ nights. I wonder how many of them got upset that we were loud that weeklong nights two hours after the end of the night mission. After many sleep deprived nights, I made friends outside my major that I still hang out with. I will say, though, the ice cream was definitely worth it.

1. Cresswell, Tim. “Genealogy of Place.” Place: a Short Introduction, Blackwell Pub., 2004, pp. 50.

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