I miss you Diane.

One year ago today, I received a tearful voicemail from one of my best friends while assisting with an audition. "We lost her", my friend said. I felt my stomach drop into a bottomless pit. It couldn't be, she was supposed to be getting better. She was engaged. She was supposed to be getting better.

Diane was only a year older than I am now. She was brilliant, charming, funny, witty, sophisticated, talented, fun, elegant, warm, ambitious, and a total badass. There were many, many people who adored her. No, who adore her. It has been lovely to look at facebook today, to read the tributes and see the pictures and feel myself very firmly in the midst of a glorious and varied group of people who had one, bright shining thing in common: her. I mean, yes, many of us attend the sames events (some of which she founded and ran). Lots of us love vintage culture. But all of us see owls everywhere now. All of us miss her, and all of us spend time thinking that it was really much too soon.

And to my owl, who looks just like the one tattooed on my chest, with the glass of champagne and the orange Halloween mask I say this: I know you are dancing among the stars. When I need comfort, I think of watching Golden Girls with you on Thanksgiving. When I want to smile, I think of you modeling a Ziegfeld headpiece at Flute Midtown or gliding around Marion's with chocolate of your cigarette tray. When I feel discouraged, I think of you manning the Zelda table at Jazz Age Lawn Party, all day long despite the fact that you were sick and it was really, really hot. And when I think of love, I think of you & all of these people you brought together. You are a muse and a goddess. Thank you.