Brief sketches of beautiful people

There’s a guy I know. He’s just about the cleverest person I’ve ever met. Whatever he turns his hand to he can do brilliantly within weeks. Except accents, they always come out Jamaican. He isn’t a distant, detached sort of man, he’s kind and he’s thoughtful and he’s gentle too. This man – this friend of mine – is like a rock, he is, I suppose, a sanctuary from the relentless, uniform onslaught of time and the ceaseless flux of growing older. Because however strange and other my life becomes, my friend is always familiar, like we see each other every day instead of every other month. Things just seem brighter and better when he’s around.

And there’s this other guy, I know. He’s the brother I never had. He’s family, our lives knitted together at a cellular level and protected by layers of scar tissue. And we were friends at a time when anything was possible and life was full of songs and stories and despite everything we’re closer now than we’ve ever been. Because we understand, I think, how lucky we are to have a friend like the other, someone who understands without effort, who remembers when others forget, someone, in short, you would trust with your life. I wouldn’t be the same person without him.

To continue, I have a friend who inspires me. He is a treasure trove of laughter and imagination and story. We became friends without really making the decision to and it took years to realise just how much our friendship meant. He not only makes me laugh out loud but his enthusiasm and talent and support are a god-send and the relationship he has with his equally-wonderful wife has taught me so much about the nature of love. Their house, and the peace I find there, is one of my favourite places on Earth.

I work with three people who are each individually amazing but together they are astonishing. And the work we do together is the thing I’m proudest of in my whole life. There was a dream of a place where young people could find themselves and each other and in the drama and community of that time perhaps discern a fraction of something bigger and even more sublime. And my fellow travellers have gifts that I can’t even begin to quantify and they use these talents in music and words and paint and voice to perform miracles of wit and wonder. I feel so privileged to stand beside them and count myself amongst their number.

Finally, there is a girl who is my partner in life and the yardstick by which I measure all others. She has the voice of a nightingale, a genius level intellect and a big soft heart that means she cares about other people so much more than she cares about herself. She is selfless and stubborn, beautiful, opinionated and wise. My punk academic philosopher, my joyous, unearthly angel with the skew-whiff halo and the lovely smile. I feel so proud and so lucky to be with her, her love is like rocket fuel, now no star, no undreamt galaxy is beyond my grasp.

I feel so blessed, I feel so happy, I thought you should know.