Saturday, July 05, 2003
CHASING ERIKA, Sex and Lies continued...
Erika was ten. Young enough to be a child, old enough to worry. She had been an effortless baby. She never hampered my life style because I took her everywhere. I never gave it a second thought. Initially, when she was very tiny, I carried her in front in a sling type affair that many women in third world countries used. They became popular in the USA in the 1970's because it was O.K. for women to breast feed again. Since in the first 3-4 months that's pretty much all you do, if you want to have a life and breast feed, you bring the baby along. And I did. I tried to be discrete about it, but sometimes you just had to sit on a bus, or in some public place and nurse your baby. Occasionally I would get a raised eyebrow from someone who seemed to be offended at the activity but I ignored them.
As she got older I transferred her to my back pack. She always managed to engage herself in whatever was going on. I talked to her alot. We seemed to communicate even before she could talk. I volunteered the two of us to be part of Harvard graduate student's thesis on language development in female children. The student would visit us twice a week to record any new sounds Erika had made. It was fun and exciting. It elevated my awareness of how cognitive thought evolves.
When I was teaching my adult life drawing classes, I would bring Erika along. She was 4-8 years old at this point. There was a always a nude model on the platform in the center of the room. Sometimes male, sometimes female, sometimes old and geezerly, sometimes young and nubile. My students would put drawing pads on their easels, select a place where they had a comfortable view and begin drawing. Erika would get herself a spot and take out her crayons and draw too. Often it would be someting totally unrelated to the scene. Once, when she was very young, she drew a horse with a sun and a moon in the picture at the same time and the horse was eating so she showed the inside of the stomach, like an XRAY. I have no idea where she got this from.
I loved this child. I told myself all kinds of rationalizations about how my leaving her dad would not effect our relationship. That the first 3 years of life were the most important, that love conquers all.
Soon after Bill helped me move my stuff to my new loft, I managed to get Pete to agree to let me have Erika visit me there. I picked her up, we took the bus and subway to my Fort Point Studio. There is an intimidating walk across barren parking lots into what looks like "no man's land". It was a sunny afternoon and I wanted to take Erika and show her where mommy lived now, then we were going to go to a movie, something she had picked out, I can't remember what. We get on to "A" street, about two blocks from my place, and Erika starts to run in the opposite direction. I'm stunned, I freak. She is very fast, she inherited her dad's long lean body and Olympic speed. The brain kicks in - Erika is running away, running from the mom who loves her, running she does not know where. I chase after her, I am not in great shape, I've never trained for this. Panic. I thought I would loose her. Some super human adrenalin pushes me ahead. I manage to catch her, just barely. She is crying and kicking and flailing and hitting me with all her might. She is incredibly strong. I hold on with all my might. I wrap my arms around her and don't let go.
She calms down, but the tie is tenuous. I know she could take off again at any time. It's a whole new ballgame.
Erika was ten. Young enough to be a child, old enough to worry. She had been an effortless baby. She never hampered my life style because I took her everywhere. I never gave it a second thought. Initially, when she was very tiny, I carried her in front in a sling type affair that many women in third world countries used. They became popular in the USA in the 1970's because it was O.K. for women to breast feed again. Since in the first 3-4 months that's pretty much all you do, if you want to have a life and breast feed, you bring the baby along. And I did. I tried to be discrete about it, but sometimes you just had to sit on a bus, or in some public place and nurse your baby. Occasionally I would get a raised eyebrow from someone who seemed to be offended at the activity but I ignored them.
As she got older I transferred her to my back pack. She always managed to engage herself in whatever was going on. I talked to her alot. We seemed to communicate even before she could talk. I volunteered the two of us to be part of Harvard graduate student's thesis on language development in female children. The student would visit us twice a week to record any new sounds Erika had made. It was fun and exciting. It elevated my awareness of how cognitive thought evolves.
When I was teaching my adult life drawing classes, I would bring Erika along. She was 4-8 years old at this point. There was a always a nude model on the platform in the center of the room. Sometimes male, sometimes female, sometimes old and geezerly, sometimes young and nubile. My students would put drawing pads on their easels, select a place where they had a comfortable view and begin drawing. Erika would get herself a spot and take out her crayons and draw too. Often it would be someting totally unrelated to the scene. Once, when she was very young, she drew a horse with a sun and a moon in the picture at the same time and the horse was eating so she showed the inside of the stomach, like an XRAY. I have no idea where she got this from.
I loved this child. I told myself all kinds of rationalizations about how my leaving her dad would not effect our relationship. That the first 3 years of life were the most important, that love conquers all.
Soon after Bill helped me move my stuff to my new loft, I managed to get Pete to agree to let me have Erika visit me there. I picked her up, we took the bus and subway to my Fort Point Studio. There is an intimidating walk across barren parking lots into what looks like "no man's land". It was a sunny afternoon and I wanted to take Erika and show her where mommy lived now, then we were going to go to a movie, something she had picked out, I can't remember what. We get on to "A" street, about two blocks from my place, and Erika starts to run in the opposite direction. I'm stunned, I freak. She is very fast, she inherited her dad's long lean body and Olympic speed. The brain kicks in - Erika is running away, running from the mom who loves her, running she does not know where. I chase after her, I am not in great shape, I've never trained for this. Panic. I thought I would loose her. Some super human adrenalin pushes me ahead. I manage to catch her, just barely. She is crying and kicking and flailing and hitting me with all her might. She is incredibly strong. I hold on with all my might. I wrap my arms around her and don't let go.
She calms down, but the tie is tenuous. I know she could take off again at any time. It's a whole new ballgame.
