LETTERS FROM HOME: FINDING OUT WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE

March 16, 1995

Dear Leslie,

DC and I saw "Outbreak." Such a superficial story about the danger of biological weapons. But the little town in the movie was located about 40 miles north of us when we lived in Garberville, and we went there last summer when they were shooting. It was at least fun to watch the movie for familiar Ferndale landmarks, like the movie theater (actually only used for the occasional play) and the hospital (actually a bank wearing a false face).

The best part was when the pilot aborted his mission and dropped a bomb off the coast in a direction which actually would have wiped out another town.

"There goes Petrolia," DC whispered.

We are almost moved into our new house, if you don't count the things still in our storage locker and the things that have occupied my parents' sun porch for more than a year and the things at DC's parents' house. Being uprooted reminds you how easy it is to get along with just a toothbrush, but it's nice to open a box and see a painting that has accompanied you through time.

One of mine was found in a secondhand store. It's of a young couple who appear to be 18th-century French aristocrats. He is kissing her hand in such a way that I imagine the thought of transferring that kiss to her lips would make him swoon.

She, apparently accustomed to this behavior, regards not him but you, the viewer, with a faint smile that says, "Bring on the moon and stars. Earth men are too easy."

This painting long seemed to capture my view of male-female relationships. No doubt that's one reason so many of mine were canceled due to lack of interest.

We wearied of the game. I expected magical spells, knowledge of mysteries we men with our simple desires for a sandwich and a beer and a ballgame could only pay homage to.

I don't know when this painting ceased to be true for me. Maybe it began in Big Sur while reaching for my own mysteries, reclaiming my own self-respect as a man.

Your grip on a belief you hold close must be loosened before the belief can be transformed.

Now, the ideal of being in a woman's thrall has been replaced by the willingness to accept the headier reality of two souls who choose to align their lives.

Every moment offers another choice to become more intimate with each other or to retreat within old beliefs about how women are or how men are.

"Whatever what is is, is what I want," writes Galway Kinnell.

"Just that. But that."

I like to keep this painting around as a memory of Sam's past, and a reminder that being is a never-ending state of becoming.

One moment in "Outbreak" soars above the film. The woman Dustin Hoffman's character loves but is estranged from is dying from the airborne virus that is threatening the world. He has found the antidote but she thinks he's only trying to soothe her. So he removes his oxygen mask, risking everything and nothing.

Sorry, but these beans are worth spilling.

Human beings are capable of such love and faith. Sometimes we just get stuck in a picture of ourselves that no longer tells the truth.

Love, Sam

~Sam Blackwell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.