Saturday, March 6, 2010

Drawings by Ian Correa

My friend Ian Correa used to be a private investigator. Once he was on a case where the husband claimed to have lost the ability to create new memories, like in the movie Momento.

Ian is camped out in his car within view of the house.

It's 2am and well lit summer streets go on forever like great indoors. We are listening to Steve Reich on a CD Ian got from the library. He rolls down the window to smoke. Ian is the best driver at night in summer after a movie. The first time he heard Steve Reich he cried, so he keeps renewing the CD. Next he puts on DJ Shadow.

At first when Ian moved away no one understood his jokes. He would make a joke in his straight conversational way and everyone thought he was a liar. For a while it seemed like this would be a real problem.

I don't know how Ian feels about communism, but when he leaves graffiti on a bathroom wall he likes to write, "Red Revolution Now."

The night before the raft project left St. Louis, we were half way home from the pizza shop where he worked for a couple years. "I talked with my boss," he said. "I quit. And I'm coming with you guys in the morning."

Ian is a practical romantic, an eagle scout. He is always down for an adventure and won't put up with bullllllllshiiiiiiit. We're climbing the ladder to the roof. We're testing all the doors. There is a hole in this fence. I trust him. He's on the inside.

Ian has always been a private person. There parts of his life that remain a mystery to me. What happened last year that wiped out his savings? I don't ask the details of his relationships. Maybe I should. Neither of us are great a keeping up on the phone. But I do look at his drawings.

You can see all 42 of the drawings Ian gave me, even (gulp) the racy ones, on flickr. I hope he keeps up the good work and doesn't mind that I put all this on the web.

Ian Correa lives at his friend Nate's house in Saint Louis. He is working on a graduate degree in Library Science and has a book club. He grew up in Kansas City and recently gave me a manila folder full of drawings. We've been friends since secret santas in sixth grade.

photo from James Johnson
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  1. i remember, once, you walked into his room at his folks house in pitch black and just hovered over his bed breathing loudly, face adorned with a mask, until he woke up. i don't think it phased him.

  2. Let's stop beating around the bush, Ian, and answer me this: If you had one shot to sit on your lazy butt and watch all the TV you ever wanted until your brain turned to mush, would you go for it? Or just let it slip?