Story of Terna

from 6/13/2000

--She’s so cool.
I met Terna at St. Paul’s School during a 4th Form Humanities Farce. We were supposed to interview teachers for their memories of the dear old institution. We probably were stuck with the most dull individuals on the face of campus, but we conducted the interviews with a modicum of respect, nonetheless. I don’t know exactly how we came to be friends, but I do remember wrestling with Terna in the commonroom of Con/20 over a squeeky bag of something-- potato chips? Also, going out to Chinese Food with Gabe, Noelle, Meghan/Emily/Zoe, Clea, and Terna during a final Seated Meal and being greated by Security as we pulled back into SPS (Concord Cab, thanks muchly). I remember dropping flowers by her room on a regular basis, and chatting in Hargate (poetry and art and such). “I know About the Yellow Balloon” was a crushing moment for my frail little ego-- Terna told me that somehow the mistaken prank that I’d misdirected was verification of what her mother told her-- ‘to never trust anyone.’ What an odd moment. While Terna was in France for her Year Abroad, we exchanged a great many letters. I think that these testify best to who she is and what Diction there is between her self and myself, and so I should perhaps let them speak for themselves. Our friendship is largely one of correspondence, of elaborate email messages, notes, letters, scrawls, card games, signals and codes. It is also one of conversations, conversions, modifications and a sense of steadiness. I think I will know her still when we are both old and wrinkly. I think that I’ve known her before, and very well may again. Terna is wise, and clever, and older than anyone I know. I think that she has magic-- is magic, is magicked, magics... She’s a poet, a visionary, a person who can see. I think that if Terna was a rock she would be a feature jutting out of a mountain side, smooth, old, dark, friendly.