I met Shutterbug through an interesting labyrinth of experiences and situations. Thang had been trying to sell me on a special series of marketing classes for artists who want to be able to live off their art. I was reluctant at first but following a wonderful screening interview I was all for it. When I attended my first and only session I found that I had stepped in something rather different. Really stepped in it. The facilitator had a huge background in marketing and knew not a thing about art or artists. She has to be one of the nastiest, most humourless excuses of a human being I have ever met. So mean-spirited was she that, knowing that we were all on low or virtually nonexistent incomes, told us that we had to pay for our own coffee that was served on the premises as she wanted to encourage self-sufficiency. I only wanted to get as far away from her as possible. Thang tagged along with me during the lunch break and made things only worse with his neurotic nonstop stream of consciousness yammering. I met in the class someone I will name Pantaloon Girl who became a short term friend. She was actually a controlling self-righteous bully and when a few months later over a cup of coffee in a café I called her on it she broke down weeping. We never saw each other again. It was Pantaloon Girl who told me about Shutterbug, who lived in his photography studio in an old downtown building on the fringe of Gastown. She was doing an art show on his premises and she promised to tell him all about me.
I attended her opening where she introduced us. We hit it off rather well and I did feel a bit uncomfortable with the degree of interest and attraction he had towards me even though I was reassured that he was "straight." Shutterbug liked my paintings and we agreed to do a show the following spring. In the meantime our friendship developed. I became a regular visitor in his studio and he appeared quite intrigued by my radical politics and activism and I suppose my spirituality.
He had a seemingly endless stream of girlfriends, being quite the ladies' man. I found it interesting that I got on well generally with all his girlfriends, but his male friends and I (fewer than his girlfriends) seemed not to connect really. I found them all rather boring. Shutterbug turned out to be incredibly kind and generous and gave (not lent) me some money to help pay for my rent during my final month before I became homeless.
I did have a good opening for my art show in his place with a very decent turn out of visitors. I even sold a couple of paintings. Within three weeks I was homeless. Shutterbug allowed me to stay at his place for a few days then I went to stay part time with my father in a small coastal town where he lived. I alternated each week, four days with my father in the coastal town and three days with friends in Vancouver. Sometimes I stayed with Shutterbug. His studio became almost like home.
We stayed in contact after I found housing and from time to time I would take care of his cat, sometimes staying overnight during his frequent road trips. Then I began my journey of recovery and we lost sight of each other. All the time, energy and attention I had previously given to others I was now lavishing on myself. I was taking back my life and suddenly none of my friends (who usually took way more than they gave) had time for me. And vice versa.
I didn't see Shutterbug for another five years or so. He was already in his forties and showing it. He actually chased after me for a couple of blocks when he saw me downtown. I didn't really want to see him, feeling only a huge and empty disappointment whenever I thought of him. We exchanged contact information. We were going to go for coffee after work. He never showed up. We since ran into each other a couple of times, long enough for him to see that my life was moving at full cylinders and suddenly there was nothing there for him, only a self-sufficient being who wasn't about to be emotionally exploited again.
He is now a father, a bit on the late side since now he is fifty. As far as I know he has recovered from his various drug addictions. I don't think we'll ever see each other again. I long ago stopped caring.
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