from the soloist

by judyko

year ago, I met a man who was down on his luck and I thought I might be able to help him. I don’t know that I have. Yes, my friend Mr. Ayers now sleeps inside. He has a key. He has a bed. But his mental state, and his well-being, are as precarious now as they were the day we met. There are people who tell me I’ve helped him. Mental health experts who say that the simple act of being someone’s friend can change his brain chemistry, improve his functioning in the world. I can’t speak for Mr. Ayers in that regard. Maybe our friendship has helped him. But maybe not. I can, however, speak for myself. I can tell you that by witnessing Mr. Ayers’s courage, his humility, his faith in the power of his art, I’ve learned the dignity of being loyal to something you believe in. Of holding onto it, above all else. Of believing, without question, that it will carry you home.

Steve Lopez, L.A. Times
last line of the movie

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