another leaving for red maple country

At five tomorrow morning, SIr Roy will be leaving for Canada. I've been lingering here in my blog, signed in, more often than anyone might think, but there was nothing appropriate to write about- until now. This post probably won't be as coherent or as sound or epiphanous or as long but this comes from a soul, undulating underneath its carapace. I shed a lousy tear in the cab, as that scene of Sir Roy's reflection slow-motioned on the screen inside my head. That would be my last captured cerebral image of him-for the next two years,a reflection on a car window. On it, he disappears repeatedly.

He's never been an official teacher, never had a formal class under him where he was lecturer and I, student but he has become more of a teacher - mentor if you must than most of the fine arts faculty I've learned (or otherwise) from. Sharing with me an affinity towards the ephemeral, he taught me the purity of performance art and also, its impurities. Teaching with the most effective and humane manner: by example. One time, I was supposed to talk about performance art to some students but before it was my turn, he came inside the room and I knew instantly I had no right to speak: a genuine authority on the matter had arrived.

Like the rest of XO?, SIr Roy is one of the faces I look for among the Turtle's Nest crowd, and one of those whom I can share a table with and not care if I was being too quiet or too me. And what kind of me would I be if I forget this line from a conversation between him and chai: WHO IS IT THAT DETERMINES "i"?

Two years after then- or not. All I have in my stomach now is a mishmash of thank you's regurgitating, unstoppable, in silence.