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Our Friends as Muses — Still Not There Yet pg192
Colorful companion to my memoir The Incompetent Psychic
Besides the obvious benefits of a beautiful friendship, Bill took a lot of pressure off my dog to be my primary caregiver.
Bill Mead was a special dish and here’s the recipe: Fill a large pot over half-full with all the best things about girlfriends, then throw in a hefty dose of yang to get the male energy cooking. Mix in a goodly quantity of spiritual questing, and a generous measure of raunchy humor. Add a handful of metaphysics (check to make sure it doesn’t smell like sulfur). Adjust the preconceived notions. Bill continually supplied the recommended nutrients my sanity required. He could also use the word fabulous correctly.
No gal can be fully fulfilled without a brilliant gay man to hash out the big questions with. Bill lit candles in my dimmer back rooms. — From Chapter 10
I was so incredibly lucky during the weird years of early recovery back in the 90s. I had friends — friends with great big generous souls who were walking around just like regular people. As a tribute of thanks, I embarked on an idea for ‘The Muse’ series which, unfortunately, turned out to be too over-ambitious for my resources at that time. I photographed ten inspirational women and Bill because fabulous gay men…
