I would like you to tell me a story about a person or thing you have loved -- first love, or a failed love, or the love of your life, or how you loved your parents or your dog or your Harley or that teddy bear. It can be a memory about them, or something you wish you had told them, or a rant about how they done you wrong (or right), or why you loved them. It can be funny or sad or maudlin or matter of fact. It need not be brilliant, or well written. It does need to be TRUE. It needs to be SHORT. Not even any longer than the length of this paragraph.
You will NOT be identified as the writer of the story. All names used will be changed. I have set up this form for you to submit the story so you can maintain your anonymity completely.
The first incarnation of this project was in a performance and interactive installation at the First Annual "SoundWalk" in Long Beach, CA, a day of installation of artworks by sound artists in a variety of indoor and outdoor spaces throughout the downtown Long Beach East Village Arts District.
Stories will be used in future versions of the ongoing Real Love Stories project.
Some examples of stories people have submitted:
I loved her cheeks, her freckly back, her poor eating habits, terrible cooking, excellent sleeping abilities, kindness. Kindness was most.
I love cold lobster. When someone else treats to a night out of dining, I
shamelessly exploit it fully. I order the largest lobster available, then I fill
up on bread sticks. No guilt. After a little less than a third of the lobster is
down my gullet I drown it in butter and have it wrapped to take home. The next
morning as I pull it out of the fridge I actually squeal in delight. I savor
every bite, eating becomes a form of meditation: I shut off the radio, the
television, the phone, I close my eyes and cherish each bite as if it were the
body of Christ.
Some love stories take a long time to happen but when they do, it's really amazing. They wipe out all previous loves in that category.
I loved somebody because they weren't afraid and they made my laugh but they didn't come after me. So, maybe it wasn't love.
My first love was my cousin. I was eight years old. She was 17.
I love his hair -- it is so soft. I have only touched it once, when we were kissing intensely for the first time. I hope I get to do that again.
I used to have two magic baby blankets, but then one disappeared when we went to a family friends'. Now I only have one. I think my parents took one of them while we were there. Fuckers.
I met a woman in a bar. I was coming home on a Sat night with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Blocks from home I stopped at a metal (heavy) bar as it was closing, with enuff money for one beer. I turned to see a woman in a pink 1950's prom dress. We fell hard.
I fell the first time I saw him, when we met for a date at a taco stand. Ridiculous, I know, to fall like that without even really knowing him... but I had no choice. This wave of physical feeling went through me, and I knew I had to know all about him... Is that love? I don't know.