Thirty six

Once they were settled, he picked up the previous conversation. "So, you were telling me about deaf art forms."

She nodded. "Well, one aspect is actual art, in the traditional sense of the word. It's representations of historical events to reflect Deaf history or the Deaf experience; this is a way of indicating the magnitude of an event in our history. Usually these paintings are very vibrant and rich in color contrast."

He flicked Bobby's desk lamp, and she looked up. "Like abstract? Or realistic images in more vivid colors?"

"It can be anything really-- visual fine arts, painting, sculpture, drawing, photography, printmaking. Most deaf artists have a tendency to use contrasting colors and values, intense colors, contrasting textures. It may also most often include a centralized focus, with exaggeration or emphasis on facial features, especially eyes, mouths, ears, and hands. Currently, Deaf artists tend to work in human scale with these exaggerations, and not exaggerate the space around these elements."

He nodded, fascinated. "Sounds like a world I need to explore a bit. You mentioned the storytelling - that would be along the same lines as literature or poetry, I would assume."

"Yes, the storytelling is along the same lines as deaf literature and poetry. To give you an example: one story is about a boy who dreams of traveling to another land, one where the majority are deaf, with few that can hear. The objective to deaf literature is the need and sense of belonging; this is what the deaf community is. In poetry, it's a way to express the everyday life of a deaf person."

He flicked the light again. "How is the poetry...does it translate into..." He sighed. "I'm not even sure how to ask this. If I were to ask you to write down one of Clayton Valli's poems, would it lose something somehow in the process, or does the ASL structure enhance it somehow?"

"Most ASL poets write the poetry in English first, and then it is GLOSSED to ASL. I don't believe you could take a ASL poem, that perhaps you see, and write it down, then it would lose much in the meaning. When the poem is told in ASL, I believe it enhances the meaning of the poem."

Myles nodded again. "I would imagine, especially by the author that it would— to see the passion behind the words."

Sue smiled. "I think you're starting to see how expressive the deaf people's language really is— I think that's great."

He looked a little chagrined. "And it's about darn time?"

She tilted her head and smiled at him even more brightly. "That, too."

They worked in silence for a several minutes. Then he reached over and flicked the desk light again, a little more hesitantly this time. When she looked up, she saw the same hesitation in his eyes.

"What is it, Myles?" she asked gently. "Whatever it is, go ahead and ask it. It's okay."

"What about...well, you mentioned Evelyn Glennie, who is a musician. How--" He paused. "Please don't take this wrong. How, if you can't hear the music...?" He trailed off, not knowing how to phrase his question.

Sue smiled. "How can I take it wrong, if you're being kind enough to ask? But to answer your question, you could say, I hear music. I just don't hear it the same way you do. I listen through my hands, the vibrations allow for the beats of the music. Some deaf persons prefer drums to piano or guitar; me, I enjoy them all."

She paused for a moment. "Did you know there are five types of music, one each pertaining to our five senses? Although, most hearing people are only familiar with one type of music, the ear music. It's amazing that the hearing people think that we, the DEAF, can't enjoy the sphere of music. In fact, they're only confined themselves into thinking that there's only one type of music, and we're 'lacking' as non-functional in this aspect because we can't hear the "ear" music as well as they can. You know some deaf even develop inner rhythm, which allows them to dance to music even if they don't hear it."

Myles thought about that, hard. "I never thought of that. I do know when I go to the symphony and sit closer to the stage, I can usually feel the music in my feet, through the floor, but I never really thought of it as its own...sense, I suppose." He looked at her again, smiling. "So if I were to find out when Evelyn Glennie is going to be with the National Symphony this season...and I believe she is on the schedule, by the way...?"

She raised a brow at him, but her eyes twinkled. "She is. Mid-July, I think." She grinned mischievously, pretending she didn't know what he was asking. "What was your question?"

He laughed, and teased her right back. "Would you be interested in going? Or would that get me in trouble with either David or Jack?"

She laughed, "I am a big girl, you know. Besides, I can woo both of them over, if need be. I would be honored to go with you."

"Good. It's a date then." He looked thoughtful again. "You know, I wish there were some way I could turn off my hearing for that. I wonder what it would be like to exclusively feel the music."

Sue furrowed her brow as she thought for a moment. Either he's lost his mind, or he actually wants to learn. She then smiled. "When we go on our date, I can bring a couple of ear molds for you, you can take off your shoes -- and enjoy the experience at my level."

He looked up at her with what she could only call eagerness. "You're serious? It's possible to do that?"

She gave him a half smile. "Of course it's possible. Musicians use ear molds all the time, when they perform, to block out excessive noise; from what I've been told they work quite well."

Myles studied her face for a moment, a thoughtful smile playing across his face. "You look like you're in shock that I'd have even expressed that desire. It usually takes a two-by-four to get through to me, but it only takes one whack with it."

"Though I think that's sweet, yes, I am a bit confused why you would want to entertain experiencing a symphony without hearing it, if you didn't have to." She paused for a moment with a look of confusion. "What did you want to do with a two-by-four?"

He laughed, and explained the reference. When he finished, she giggled and said, "Oh, if I'd known that was all it would take, I'd have found one a long time ago."

"Thank you so much." He sobered a little. "Why would I want to experience it? Because, Miss Thomas, I think I've been missing out on something. You know I love the arts in any form-- and it should be a new experience every time, or that's how I feel about it. Today showed me a whole range of new experiences that I hadn't even considered. Is that so shocking coming from me?"

Sue lowered her brow. "Shocking is on way to express it, yes," she smiled at him. "But I'm more than happy to explain and share the world I live it, if you want— I thank you for having an interest."

Suddenly, Jack's voice rang from the hallway as he walked past. "Come and get it while it's warm, folks!"

Myles glanced at Sue and said, "I owe you the thanks, and the apology again for my previous attitude. Jack's back with dinner, by the way. You hungry?"

"Yes, I'm famished."

As they exited the room, Sue gently grabbed Myles' arm; without a word, she signed friends.

He looked at her, puzzled. "What's that the sign for?"

She smiled up at him. "Friends."

It was the first time she'd ever seen him both at a loss for words and genuinely touched. He returned the gesture slowly, almost shyly, latching his right index finger onto his left, then rotating his wrists to vice versa. Friends.