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4B But the day came when I visited his apartment after one of our afternoon strolls. I was overwhelmed by the unfinished sculpture of two horses. The huge clay armature dominated the single room. The horses were made of toa Lo nS eo) 1 cement and they were at least five feet tall. I’m a big woman and those horses made me feel small. They took up nearly all the space in that room. “Stone Horse” was what he called the huge sculpture. He’d been given the commission by a person who wanted to adorn his fountain with the animals. I was so impressed. I knew he was an 1 + ‘ aac artist as well. In the corner, the only space not taken up with horses and artist’s supplies and finished works, I saw a bed made of an old door with a foam mat on it. This man lived like than I’d expected. He was practicing what up until this moment, had been only a dream for me. “You’re seeing a side of me my students don’t see,” he explained. He kissed me and coaxed me toward the bed. I made myself pull away and persuaded him to go back downstairs to continue our stroll in the street. But I knew something was happening to me, to us. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into a month. The trust I had in this man bloomed. I waited everyday for his call, for his knock at my door. One day I admitted to myself that I’d fallen in love and it wasn’t long until we were sharing the old foldout couch in my apartment or his makeshift cot at his place. Mostly we worked in his studio and slept in mine. The days of couples openly living together had not yet become common in Tulsa. I always felt edgy, worried, and terribly concerned about our lifestyle. I was as totally involved in my art now as Bob was in his, but I felt we both needed something more. We needed to be someplace where our way of life was an accepted lifestyle, not a situation for snickering and comments among our acquaintances. Barbara: The Story of a UFO Investigator artist and now I saw that other people recognized him as an the bohemian artists I’d read about! He was so different