CECILIA

November 13, 2007
Cecilia's shoes are falling apart. They are converse-like low tops, a kind of purpley-brown / grey colour. When she gave them to me, she showed me how I had to tie the left shoe in order for the sole to stay attached to the upper.


This is done by wrapping the shoelace underneath and around to the top where it is tied. A piece of an old bike inner tube secured with duct tape functions as a patch at the heel of the left shoe. "They aren't so good in the rain," Cecilia explained to me. Luckily it was a sunny day.
Both the toes have doodles on them. In pencil. And the right shoe has a kind of a metal, capital "T"-shaped charm attached to the shoelace with wire.



I wore Cecilia's shoes to school. It was a bit of a busy day--classes, various errands on campus, home for a quick dinner and to gather a few things, then off to a screening party my studio class was having. Wearing Cecilia's shoes, I somehow felt more attached to the ground.
They fit really well (I think we both have size 7 1/2 feet). The sole is so thin that there isn't much between socks and ground, which allows for a kind of sensitivity to whatever surface happens to be underneath.




I noticed that Cecilia's shoes were less of a distraction to me than the others I've worn so far (except at first, when I was hyper-aware of the fact that they might self-destruct at any moment). I felt less of the awkwardness of not being completely myself, even though I've never worn shoes at all like Ceil's before.


I saw Cecilia today--twice, actually--and we talked about how comfortable the shoes are, which is why she continues to wear them despite the fact that they are near destroyed. I like this.
Again, I thought that this putting myself in others' shoes would be a thoughtful but misplaced gesture, a failed experiment--and it perhaps is to a certain extent--but I am finding it to be entirely interesting.


In the evening, Cecilia and some others came to the video screening party (it was ever so great to have people come--thank you!). Cecilia and I realized that we have matching bruises on our left forearms, and proceeded to press them together. She made kissing noises and our bruises had an interesting conversation. This is the kind of wonderful person that is Cecilia.
Her shoes are falling apart, yet comfortable, and adequate, and very much her own.
As I was brushing my teeth in the evening, Cinder, my housemate's parrot, who likes to hang out in the bathroom, took an interest in Cecilia's shoes (in the form of chewing on them).