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Recently I’ve been listening to a lot of Rasputina.  And kicking myself that I didn’t see their live performance (about 3 miles from my house, damn it) when they came through Santa Fe last year.  Curse my hermit nature.

Because who doesn’t love a gothy rock band with cellos?  Especially one that writes songs inspired by J.G. Ballard stories?

A couple of days ago, I was prompted to look up a friend with whom I hadn’t spoken in several years (the precipitating event behind that is actually rather ghoulish, given the outcome, and I don’t feel like sharing it) but discovered—to my great shock, sadness, and regret—an obituary where her vibrant life ought to have been.

This came just a couple of months after a similar experience when I tried to contact a teacher who had been very influential to me.

This has brought home to me just how terrible I am at keeping in touch with people.   I’m not particularly outgoing even at the very best of times.  Most of the time I’m pathologically introverted; I just don’t reach out to folks, even when I want to.  Even longtime friends, and folks I think about often.  I’ve always been like this.  I’m beginning to regret it.

I suspect, that if she were to read this, Margit would be surprised to know I thought about her at all.  The truth is I ought to have given her more thought than I did, and I should have been a better friend to her.   I was, at best, an indifferent friend.  Or, maybe more accurately, a lazy acquaintance.  Perhaps I’m too wrapped up in myself; perhaps I have a cold, hard heart.  Probably both.

It’s too late for me to make up for all that.  Though I wish I could.  But I feel I owe it to Margit, a gentle soul who showed me a few undeserved kindnesses over the years, to record my memories.  These vignettes have been playing through my head on a nonstop loop since I learned of her passing.

So let me tell you about Margit.

Today is the second time in several months that I tried to look up an old friend only to find an obituary where an exciting, ongoing life should be.

This time my friend was younger than me, and passed away two years ago this summer.

Wow.

James Patrick Kelly took a bunch of photos during Rio Hondo last week, and he has kindly posted them to Flickr for the world to share (and, probably, laugh at us). 

He did a nice job documenting lots of little moments from the week.  (You might notice that one of the only blurry photos is of yours truly– proof that I really do have a superpower, and that superpower is being supernaturally unphotogenic.)