The Diva insisted that when she was a teen, her mother took to recounting all she had lived through.
"There were moments in my life when I conspired to hate my mother. I assigned blame to her for the cruelnesses I endured as well as the terrible things that plagued me in my nightmares." She stated to the interviewer.
"After a couple of tequila shots, much of my anxiety would simply dissipate. It was only after those steps were followed that I was free to cry and mourn for my mother who was a loser her entire life."
"Isn't that a bit harsh? Why would you call your mother a loser." The interviewer locked eyes with the artist to better understand her statement.
"What I mean by calling her a loser is this. My mother's innocence was stolen. She lost her freedom while being ripped away from her parents. When she finally accepted the position she held in the Reid Family, my father died, leaving her with nothing. As a result, my mother lost more than what could ever have been replaced. Never in her lifetime was she in control of any element of her own existence." The words the artist spoke and how she spoke them were cold and detached.
"The only thing that she could count on was the knowledge that if her keeper died or lost his fortune, she too would lose it all. And the saddest truth was that she was never in a position to support herself or her children. This is the reason I called her a loser."
Jolie watched as the woman continued her story. For some reason, she cried fat weighted tears as the woman discussed all that her mother's life.
She felt the heaviness of the subject even though she was a child and the adults who were talking didn't appear to be moved by the topic at all.
As the interview progressed, MJDV explained that before her father's health failed, the walls began to crumble around her mother, her six siblings, and herself. Even though Jordan was raised as the family heir and willed everything his father owned, his biological mother and siblings were sent overseas to live in the French countryside.
Rose Marie was provided a small stipend until Reid's death a few years later. Once the man died, they were left in a foreign country to fend for themselves as best they knew how.
Had it not been for the kindness of a friend who made his fortune due to the assistance of William Thadeus Reid III, Rose Marie, and her children would have starved to death. Because Jean Pierre Valais held the highest respect for the man who had once been his friend, he took on the burden of the dead man's illegitimate family.
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A HEARTY RESPECT
"It's not that I idolize her. It's just that she overcame so much, and now I'm standing here looking at what she has accomplished, despite it all."
Tears lingered in my eyes as I discussed the PBS special about the tragedies in MJDV's life with my friend. The artist was thirty years old when she painted her first painting of herself, reflecting lifeless eyes that were heavy with the burdens of the real world.
Tish may not have understood why I have such a hearty respect for the woman in the painting, but that's fine by me. I learned a long time ago that people often find it hard to see what I see.
Sometimes I feel the pain suffered by Maye Rose Bell. As I gazed upon the painting, I felt every pain the artist ever experienced had been immortalized in her eyes and each line she had intentionally over-emphasized as they made their way across her face. I felt my heartbreak as I peered into the windows of the woman's saddened soul. It was as if MJDV's spirit reached out to me directly from the canvas.
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BEST BUDS
"Hey, old-timer. What's going on with you?" Tad questioned his friend as Chopin's Nocturne in B Flat Minor played quietly in the background.
Each man held a glass of Jack Daniels. Examining the pecan-colored liquor, I attempted to entertain my oldest friend and hold onto the fragments of what can only be described as a warped mind.
My first sip didn't quite meet my expectations, so here goes nothing. I think to myself as the fiery substance coursed from my lips, over my tongue, burning its way down my throat. Leaning my head back, my eyelids drift shut. And there, yet again, a smiling face greets me.
The most indescribable shade of brown skin haunts me. I fear the stimulation tingling in the pit of my stomach whenever I envision her, and worst of all, I fear admitting just how powerless I am under Jolie's gaze.
Seventeen months had passed since she first arrived at my doorstep. Winter, spring, summer, and fall disappeared before my eyes, and yet every day, I expect to see more of her. The craziest part of it all is that I know that it's unhealthy.
Is it wrong that I feel a need to be around her? Ben questioned himself as he disappeared into his thoughts.
When Jolie started working in the house, I was proud to see her dedication. My interest in her was primarily curiosity, at least that's what I told myself. However, the real problem presented itself when I no longer saw her as just some gifted kid. I even went so far as to ignore the twinge I felt when we first shook hands. At that time, I rarely spoke to her and pushed all improper thoughts far from me.
As an attorney, I knew better than to obsess over the things that continuously plagued my mind. Nevertheless, with every visit she made to my place, I found myself pressed, requiring that I excuse myself in favor of one errand or another. Yet, no matter how hard I tried to mind my business or focus on other things, my eyes gravitated to her no matter what.
Monitoring her progress, I was astounded by her talents as she went on to win more competitions. My appreciation of her abilities made it easier for me to let down my guard until I saw her on her last birthday.
Jolie stopped by my house, and she was beyond breathtaking. When she turned seventeen, I believe that's when it registered in my mind that she wasn't some little girl anymore.
She always dressed appropriately, but my imagination was still stuck on the curves I had seen on that day. I remember wishing her a happy birthday, and she left me standing by the door for some time to secretly process my emotions.
Closing my eyes, I could still see the pale yellow sundress she wore. As I fantasized about her thickness sprawled out naked before me, that thought became a criminal act. The stiffness pressing against my jeans warned me on every level that I was wrong and had gone too far. Yet, I had no idea how to stifle my obsession with her at that time.
"Dude, where are you right now? I've been talking to you for the last ten minutes. You look like you checked out and drifted off to La-La Land a long time ago. What gives?" Tad's question yanked Ben out of his dilemma.
"Bro, I think I'm losing it." Worry lines etched themselves like the grooves in the Grand Canyon had chosen to trace a path across his forehead.
"What's got you zonked out of your mind like this?"
"I met this girl nearly two years ago, but I can't get her out of my head." I finally shared my troubles with my friend.
"Wow, man. I never thought I'd hear you admit to something like that. You know, word has gotten around that you leave women mortally wounded when they find out you don't believe in marriage and you're not looking for a relationship. What's so special about this one?" Tad's half-comical questioning wasn't meant to upset me, but it succeeded in irritating the hell out of me. As usual, I was being serious, and he was BSing around.
"Dude, I'm not joking. I need you to be the voice of reason and not a jackass right now."
"Chill out, guy. I didn't know it was that kind of conversation. What's the problem? If you really like her, tell her. Don't get mad at me and act like a dick because you don't have the balls to be in a real relationship." Tad threw back at him.
"If it were that simple, I wouldn't have a problem. But, dude, she's seventeen, and that's not half of it. She is, umm... black."
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JUST FRIENDS
Jolie and Ben remained friends even though she hadn't worked for him in some time. She would often visit him on Saturdays, and they would listen to classical music, or he would help her with one of her many art projects.
An unfamiliar energy drew her back to his home time and time again. At first, she was sure it was just for work. The first project was completed in two weeks and three days, just as she speculated. After that, Ben continuously hired her to help him clean out the garage, storage, attic, and other small chores he had no time or desire to do on his own.
Jolie managed to work for other people and still made time to work in and around his house.
She successfully got Ben to agree to paint the interior of his home a lighter color because she insisted it would change the ambiance in the place. They worked side-by-side to paint the kitchen, living room, and finally, the den.
Ben never invited Jolie anywhere near his bedroom, stating that it would be inappropriate.
Jolie assisted Ben with tiling his two bathrooms. She also helped him rip out the old carpet and replace it with wood floors throughout the house. He was in a constant state of amazement at her eye for details and color. Although she was only a teenager, Jolie completed each project as if she were a professional subcontractor.
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BEN
He wasn't stupid enough to tempt fate by inviting her into any of the bedrooms. Even though he couldn't stop thinking about her, Ben wasn't prepared to go to jail for overstepping any legal bounds.
Watching her work, the way her skin glistened with sweat, and the movements of her overly developed body beneath her t-shirt and blue jeans made him renew his faith. He found himself praying to resist the temptations haunting his mind.
Ben shared every thought concerning Jolie with his best bud because he trusted his friend to tell him the truth.
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