An Introduction in Two Parts

Marcelo has kindly asked me to write the introduction for this little project of ours, a project which materialized somewhere in the middle of nowhere, while driving along the McDonald Cartier Freeway, halfway between Montreal and home. You’re great at introductions, Marcelo had told me. You should absolutely write it.

Marcelo. I hate writing introductions.

Nevertheless, I am currently sitting in Starbucks at 9:36 on a Monday night, where thanks to you, I am staring blankly at my laptop screen, waiting for my great introduction-writing-skills to strike. I don’t think it has yet, but in my writing, I don’t think it ever does. I never approach writing with a clear sense of how it will start or end, and whether this is to my detriment or advantage, I do not know. But it is a consistent pattern, such that I have developed a habit of leaving the title blank until the very end, and letting the completed piece of writing title itself.

But this is certainly a unique circumstance, one that is entirely new to me. In all the years I have spent writing, I have always written by myself, to myself, and for myself. I try to approach my writing always as if I am the only person in the room. And now suddenly I am faced with an entirely novel challenge, to write knowing that someone else will read it, but not only that, reflect on it, contribute to it, perhaps even disagree with it.

And yet, I don’t feel like I am writing any differently. I cannot say that I feel limited by a sense of restraint or self-consciousness. The words are flowing, I am writing in the same tangential, uncensored way that has always been the source of comfort for me in the writing process. I still write as if I am the only person in the room, even though you are here, Marcelo. I didn’t expect this. Easy, effortless. There must be a metaphor about you and I somewhere in there.

I think this is what we want to write about, and why we want to write. For these moments of slow reflection that writing affords. To put thought on paper, with no sense of where things are meant to go, and in the process, discover pearls of truth we did not anticipate to find. In this manner, we hope to use this blog to reflect on the experiences we share together, the questions we ask ourselves and each other, and thus gain deeper insight into the conclusions we come to. From a more practical standpoint, we also want to document this relationship for its own sake, because put simply, we are are very much falling in love. It is what it is, and the whole process has me completely captivated, enthralled, such that I find myself wanting to remember the moments that really carry no deeper meaning, no hidden metaphor at all.

Marcelo discovered Quokkas yesterday and spent a good amount of time scouring the internet for Quokka pics (ask him about the enlightened Quokka). He picked his favourite Quokka to set as his phone background, spent about 5 minutes getting the framing just right such that the clock numbers were right behind the Quokka’s head. I was driving, and every time I looked over, I would see him turn his phone screen off then on again, only to look at his Quokka in a gaze of pure adoration. Even as I write this now, I find myself giggling out loud as the old man a few feet away shoots me a look. It is what it is.

And so there you have it. I hope I’ve set a good tone to start off this blog. What we aim to do is simple. We want to document and share our experiences to make sense of it for ourselves, and perhaps in the process provide a story that resonates deeply. We don’t want to sound too preachy, or as if we are giving advice. Because I for one, have no idea what what I am doing. Marcelo probably doesn’t either, but even if he did, he would still remind you that a lot of the advice on the internet is shit anyways. Take his advice or leave it, because keep in mind, it also has the potential to be shit.

I am getting carried away here, and the Starbucks is about to close in 20 minutes — a sign that I should wrap this up soon. So I will leave you here, and perhaps Marcelo will add a little something to my introduction.

Good luck, I’m a tough act to follow.

For the record, I did not know Cindy was this introspective, and oddly, this philosophical in her creative writing. It is perhaps this quirk in the way we think and feel that forms the bond between us. Each day seems to reveal a new point of connection — an idea or feeling expressed by one person reverberates in the other and is reflected back, always in a different tone and texture, but nonetheless communicating “yes, I have heard you.” I believe we share a way of thinking that combines philosophical introspection with direct confrontations of life, all with a dash of unbridled artistic flair. Although we both tend to different professions, perhaps what underpins much of our dialogues are the dialogues of artists, of two different people from two different walks of life, bonding over the yearning to communicate something more, something deeper, all in some degree of frustration because the whisperings of daily life do not do such feelings justice. Only after writing a long-winded story or composing a piece of music do we find some solace in this condition, in this strange little ailment I’ll call the artists predisposition.

As for my location, I too am sitting at a Starbucks, at 7:37PM, after a long day at the office. It was a gloomy day — the semblance of autumn leaves are beginning to show, and the melancholy of a seasonal transition is setting in. A perfect time to write.

Since you dear reader have made it this far, I will be more straightforward and elaborate on what the nature of this blog is and why it matters (to us). As you may know, Cindy and I have had the pleasure of meeting roughly two months ago at the time of writing — we will share the story of our coming together for another day. Whether this relationship is the idealization of a first love, or is instead driven by some divine karmic purpose, it is not for me to know. What I do know, is that I have found someone to relate with, someone that understands me in a way I haven’t been understood before. For this alone I am grateful — I just hope that Cindy feels the same.

Since then we have gone on many dates, danced together, gone for long walks, and even travelled to Montreal. It has been transformative. And thus, on our way back from Québec along the McDonald Cartier freeway, we had an idea. Why not start a blog, sharing with ourselves and the world this strange little process called falling in love? Why not be open and vulnerable about it, as artists are, in the hopes that one day we can reflect and muse upon our writings, or that perhaps someone, somewhere, will read our little story and understand a portion of what we are going through?

So here we are! Observe us in all our vulnerability! Even so, you cannot touch us. This is the creative act, and we are all in. And now, since I have tasked Cindy with the introduction, I will task myself with writing the conclusion to this short little entourage.

Dear reader, we know not where these writings will go. In one month, we may not have anything else to share. In one month, we may not even be together. This wonderful tension, scary in all its implications, is part of the journey we are both on. In seeking to understand each other, and therefore ourselves, we hope to take you on this journey with us, as we explore one of life’s greatest gifts in full bloom.

Thank you for reading, and hear from us soon.

- Cindy and Marcelo