Katie

She was an fascinating soul, a living image of her Creator

Laguna Beach is beautiful.

The streets and storefronts glow a golden-blue, giving way to indigo as the hour advances. In the middle of the day the oversaturated pastels burn themselves into memory. 

Katie was there when there was a one-bedroom cave steps from the surf. Katie’s cave was behind the Sandpiper, a local dive on the Coast Highway. Katie made more of the least than anyone I know. Her apartment was filled with her life. It was cluttered with hopes and memories and smelled like the salty ocean and sage and roses. Filled with the physical remnants of dreams, hers as well as the inherited hopes of those passing through. 

She was the custodian of more than a few of my ideas. Katie held sway over many minds, living on in the dreams and daymares of the male contingent of the California Riviera coast. She had a way about her. She had ringers on every fing and dressed like Esmerelda. Katie evoked every person to whom you’ve tied an emotion, while somehow remaining an iguana. Katie was also a gourmand, with a refined palate and an enormous appetite. 

Katie was. She is no longer. She has entered the realm of metaphor; Katie is a beautiful idea. Katie had long beautiful blonde hair and the bluest eyes. They have become star sapphires with the passage of time and the pressure of memory. Katie was a place as well as a woman; she was emotion and she lived by the ocean and she wrote poetry.

 As a place, Katie excelled at creating a space for every kind of soul We met when I was; unlike Katie, I still am, just to be clear. Anyway, as I was saying, rather writing, Katie was and now I am -here and only occasionally there, that is. I am here and banging away at my skull, seeking to dislodge the right idea to honor the metaphor that is Katie Scarlett.

Reviews

[Emily B]

How do you know if you've entered the realm of metaphor? I was once. But lately I doubt that I was ever real.

[Emily B]

So good to see you here. Be well.