It was a long time ago, but I think of him from time to time. Scotty was a casual friend whose company I enjoyed in 1995. He was short and stocky in the way of my favorite body type. He was cute and thought-full. We talked philosophy in layperson’s terms, trying for agreement on definitions so that we could sort through the ideas. When I got to know him better I learned that he was burdened with moderate Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. The need to lock and re-lock his door when leaving or returning home was just one of the troubles that he managed.
I liked that he liked my artwork. Once when I showed Scotty some of my postcard-sized oil paintings, I pulled one back and said, “Oh, this one did not quite turn out, I’ll toss it.” He quickly said, “No, give it to me.” So I framed it and named it for him. It was the one posted above, the female martial artist in a green gown, working with a staff. It represents the challenges of being two things at once: feminine and martial to protect oneself. In Scotty’s case, I think of him as an intelligent man challenged to maintain his dignity while beset by fears and compulsions.