20 Imaginary Friend

While reading everything I could about Hilma,  I also began to study her paintings, the recurring symbols and shapes in them — the spiral, the figure 8, her use of dashed lines, musing on their possible meanings.

Spending so much time looking at Hilma’s paintings and thinking about them, I felt her presence draw closer. Hilma was astute observer and an unfailing truth teller.

Some people who channel call them themselves human radios or conduits transmitting messages of from the divine

Hilma’s presence felt like that of a sister or good friend sitting beside me, looking over my shoulder at what I was drawing.

Sometimes, my hand would stop moving. I’d reach a point in the drawing where I didn’t know what to do next and I’d ask Hilma to guide me “What should I do next?”

She did not answer immediately, but waited, like a sensitive teacher might, for me to answer my own question.

“You could always try a spiral,” In my mind’s eye, I saw Hilma, corners of her mouth twitching into a smile.

When in doubt, make a spiral.It was something of a joke between us, for this is what my hand was already drawing. My hand had no doubts.

Hilma did not lecture me as if she was an authority dispensing divine wisdom. Nor did she control the movements of my hand. Rather, it felt more like I had met an imaginary yet quite real friend, and we were engaged in in a marvelous adventure together.

Every morning I woke up excited, in a way I hadn’t been in the longest time, eager for the day to begin,  to see what painting with Hilma  this day would bring.