Anna is a beautiful person whose eyes are constantly sweeping through a room, awaiting a place to land. (at first this habit made me think she was shy, but now I think she is simply a person who drinks in her environment slowly through a deliberate search.) She is a bit shorter than I, but her movements are long, leisurely, with almost a bit of a hop or a skip to them. I've noticed that she flips her hair over her right shoulder more than her left.
These are the things I've learned about her from being around her about once a week for more than three years. It is possible that I could count for you the number of times we have had a personal conversation, but she is still in my heart.
When I think of Anna, I see her in my mind: leaning in. She might be in the kitchen hugging the blue counters close under her folded arms as she listens and sweeps through the room. Anna could be standing just to my left, but I catch her silhouette in my vision; she is angled forward looking always for what it next.
I would rather get to know a person through years of proximity, than months of digital conversation. I confessed to Joe and David on Saturday night that I feel somehow voyeuristic reading the blog of a person I do not know well, or looking at the facebook page of a friends friend.
Here I am blogging, so I obviously see the live journal as a valuable tool, but if I am not known to a person through the sharing of physical space, I am afraid my writings will not make much sense to them.