It was a hot Tuesday afternoon in Brooklyn.
This was back in September 1999.
I was working as a fine artist at the time, and had just returned from a successful exhibition in Paris called “Love for Sale”.
I was feeling extra lazy that afternoon.
So I left my studio to go for a walk in the park by the river.
It was just a block away. You know that park, the famous one under the Brooklyn Bridge with the view of the down town Manhattan skyline.
Movies were shooting there all the time, but today the park was virtually empty.
Then I spotted her.
This incredibly beautiful woman, lying on the grass alone, reading a Batman comic book, eating fruit salad from a deli cup.
I couldn't believe my eyes. Really, she was that beautiful.
(I would eventually learn that she was one of the worlds top runway models).
Feeling extra confident thanks to my success in Paris, I sat near enough to see her well, but far enough not to be creepy.
I had an idea! I would draw a picture of her lying there and give it to her as a gift.
I started drawing...
The picture sucked. It would never impress her.
I was running out of time.
She lit a cigarette, and I had an idea that would change our lives forever.
In my sketchbook I had a page where I wrote the word "meow" hundreds of times, filling the entire page.
I tore out the page, walked up to her and made my pitch.
"I'll trade you a page of meows for a cigarette."
She looked at me confused, then a little defensive, like I was some park psycho.
"No, really, I'm serious."
I handed her the page, she looked, surprised to see so many meows in one place, she smiled and handed me a cigarette.
I sat next to her, pretending to smoke.
As we chatted I tried to place her accent, but couldn't.
She asked me if I liked the adult Batman comic series.
I couldn't lie, and said that comic never really did it for me.
I learned that she grew up in Israel, but her mother was British.
I learned that she had served 2 years in the Israeli army, and currently worked internationally as a model.
I learned that she didn't like answering my questions.
There was an awkward silence.
I was hanging in there by a thread, trying to think of the right thing to say.
Then Kim said.
“Have you ever been to the Crooklyn Rock?”
“No, sounds cool, what’s that?”
“Lets go, I’ll show you.”
Kim lead me toward the base of the Manhattan Bridge, into an abandoned down a curvy path through tall weeds, strewn with trash and broken glass.
I watched her move like a relaxed gazelle, her tall, exquisite body, tank top, flip flops, and a tight skirt that fell just above the knees. Wow!
We came to a 4 foot fence. What now?
Kim climbed it with ease and I followed.
And there it was.
The Crooklyn Rock!
A slab of ancient cement jutting out into the East River about 30 feet directly under the Manhattan Bridge.
We laid down together on the hot cement, looking up high above at the defining subway trains traveling back and forth below the bridge.
It was to loud to talk, so our communication was perfect.
I admired the curves of her body.
Time seemed to stop.
And then it was time to go.
She walked me to my door.
We exchanged numbers.
Two months later we had our fist date.
6 months later we were living together.
(I would learn that it was the gap in my front teeth that captured her heart that day).
10 years later we were married.
2014 is our 14th anniversary, and we have a one year old boy named Puma.