Partners in Crime

Ed and I met 41 years ago via a U-Haul truck. I was moving to the Sierras to teach first grade, and he kindly offered to help. After six hours in a truck cab, we were intrigued, maybe a little smitten, and after two years of letters and visits, we got married.

Fast-forward 40 years. It's late on a Sunday night after an Open Studio at Hunters Point in San Francisco. Our two Hondas are loaded to the roofs with paintings, lights, tables, and curtains. We are both dead tired as I pull my car up beside Ed's, roll down the window, and ask him, "Would you have offered to drive that U-Haul 40 years ago if you'd known you'd be schlepping art for the next four decades?" His eyes dart shyly to one side and then look back at me as he grins--the same look that grabbed my heart so long ago.

I couldn't have imagined a sweeter partner in crime. He stretches my canvases, photographs my paintings, poses when necessary, and listens to my kvetching. He participates in artist residencies with me and has transported paintings over thousands of miles. He has approached ever challenge with curiosity and a sense of adventure.

Once we loaded up a show into both of our cars and headed over the Bay Bridge. The Honda blew a timing belt mid-span and coasted into San Francisco in a haze of smoke and steam, our aging Volvo following close behind. We limped off the bridge and into a car repair shop, tied the canvases from the first car onto the roof of the Volvo, and sold the Honda to a mechanic for $100.

Ed is a gifted photographer. To see examples of his work, go to www.edaust.blog. Perhaps you'll be smitten, too.