Page 79 of Love Is…?
“She’s back late Tuesday afternoon. I assume you’ve been texting her but she can’t answer any messages until she returns, because her service provider has the worst coverage in Australia. But even if she could text, she wouldn’t. She’s big on being present, and taking care of the people depending on her.”
“Yeah. I’ve seen that.”
Angel patted her shoulder. “Good.” She dropped her hand. “Now, you and Tessa are heading somewhere important, relationship-wise, and in the words of our Lord and Saviour, Taylor Swift, ‘I see sparks fly’.” She sang the lyric completely off-key, which made both of them laugh.
“Thanks, Angel.” Jayde smiled warmly.
Angel patted her shoulder again. “You’re welcome to bash down this door any old time.” Then she paused. “Bugger it. If you’re going to be a fixture here, then you get hugs.” Which were promptly delivered.
Love Is…?
PART THREE
Abigail Taylor
Abigail Taylor is the subject of this profile; one of six profiles in which well-known people from all walks of life will define love. With her impending wedding to thirty-seven-year-old Samantha Markson, her girlfriend of five years, Abigail Taylor’s perspective of love is quite compelling.
By Jayde Ferguson
Given Grace’s clear directions, locating the art studio within the numerous corridors of Rawson Girls Grammar isn’t difficult. I settle onto a stool at the easel next to hers, then look about the large space. It is light and airy, with large standing easels and small, table versions dotted about. Grace plucks a cloth from the table and brushes charcoal dust from her hands, careful to avoid her school uniform. Her hair, tied into a ponytail with a dark red ribbon as per the school’s uniform policy, is still neat and tidy after a day of various timetabled activities.
I comment that the uniform seems like a visible symbol; one that creates a positive school culture.
“Yes. It’s one of the reasons that I thought we could do our interview here. I love this school. It’s my second home, which is hardly surprising since I spend so much time here. When I was nine years old, I was welcomed with open arms and suddenly I wasn’t just Abigail Taylor’s daughter. I became part of a community. I’m comfortable here. I mean, I’m comfortable at home obviously, but I have commitments here in the afternoons which I love, and I didn’t want to dash back and forth from home to here because of our interview. I’d have to miss an activity if I did that. But yes, there’s an affiliation to the school through this.”
She gestures to her shirt and tie, then gives me a long look.
“And, as I said, I have commitments this afternoon, and I don’t back out of things. So, you’re fishing for my thoughts about what love is?”
Grace Taylor is whip-smart, thoughtful, and witty, and our conversation is led by that wit. She points at the piece of art taking form on her easel.
“What do you see?”
The lines vacillate between softly tentative through to determined and strong, and Grace studies me as I study the drawing. Perhaps there are two people?
“Good. There are. I haven’t finished it yet, but I think my general theme shows through. What else?”
It feels very much like being a student under the watchful gaze of an astute educator. The indistinct figures are facing away from the viewer. A shape, more a single line, bursts from each figure, and these features are surrounded by what seems to be chaos. Hearts? Peace within frenetic activity?
“Yes! This is another reason why I had you meet me here. Sometimes art can show a deeper meaning than words, even though words are my thing. This piece isn’t finished but the structure is there. The meaning. As soon as I found out I was to be included in the interviews, I knew I had to show you this.”
She points to each section of the large drawing, using her hands to articulate her sentences.
“Two people facing in the same direction with their hearts outside themselves announcing to the world their love. You can’t hide your heart when you love someone. See the ribbon? It’s the journey through all of that.”
She indicates to the discordant, strident marks and lines, shadows and light that seek to overpower the figures.
“Two people who go on a journey with their hearts above their heads can withstand the darkness that occurs when you narrow your vision.”
Staring at her art for another moment, Grace then swivels on her stool, and shoots me a grin.
“There you go. That’s my Love Is. Love is a journey where two hearts find one another on each other’s journey. This interview’s a bit short if I’m going to give you the answer in the first five minutes. How about you ask me about the wedding?”
Aware of how reticent Abigail and Samantha are about sharing wedding details, it is surprising that Grace would offer such strongly guarded information, but she delivers a quick wink. Grace Taylor is completely aware she holds all the cards in this conversation and is not about to give many away.
“Mum and Sam would hit the roof if I gave out details. I was just teasing. I’m sorry. I guess I like to mention the wedding, even vaguely, because they’re both so into each other that it’s like they’re in this amazing bubble that drifts along around them, and whenever they talk to someone, the bubble surrounds that person and that person gets all those fabulous vibes for a moment. I love that Mum and Sam found each other, because Sam is the right person for her. She would slay dragons for Mum. I mean, she knows that Mum can do that herself. But love is fierce protection, isn’t it? Like, wanting to be that white knight, yet standing side by side, not galloping ahead to slay dragons before these dragons reach their special person.”
Another hand gesture hints at a change in conversation.