The moonless nights here are dark.  You can see a billion stars.  As the night progresses the cloudy mass of the Milky Way rotates clockwise from horizon to horizon.  One needs to spend a year here, through all four seasons, to grasp the wonder of this timeless part of Nature.  It is a world I never could imagine existed and never saw in all the cities I've lived in.
 

It was such a night that Linda and I were driving home from town.  She was acting a little funny, and I could sense that she was "off" somewhere else.  I like it when she goes to her "other" places.
 

You could barely see the outlines of Joshua Trees and other shadowy forms as we wound our way up the dirt road that led to the top of the mesa.  It was quiet in the car.  I don't speak much when in her presence.  She usually has lots of questions for me, but she was quiet all night.  Suddenly she said "There's a man standing over there holding a jar of wheat".
 

I looked to the left and saw  the shadows.  Dark, imperceptible forms of creosote bushes and Yucca.  And one, lone Joshua Tree.  I think.
 

She said it in the voice of a child, with almost no emotion, as if we were driving through town in broad daylight and had noticed a person crossing the street.  It occurred to me to question her, as I often do, how she could tell it was a jar of wheat.  "How do you know it isn't a jar of rye.  Or rocks?"
 

"No, it's wheat",  she said with a matter of factness unique to her.
 

"Do you see anyone else?"  I am always curious about the extent of her visions.
 

"Yes.  There are people all over the place."

***

Linda is considered by the art world to be an outside artist.  Well,  I guess they know more than me.  I've only known her as a highly trained one.  She put herself through college, earning a BFA from Ohio University (Athens) in 1977.  She studied at 
L'ecole des Beaux Arts in Lucca, Italy and the Provincetown Workshop in Provincetown, Mass.  So the label of "outside artist" is not entirely correct.  Perhaps one needs an MA or higher to qualify for the big time.  Oh well.
 

Perhaps it's the "schizophrenic" label that inspires this view.  I'm not surprised.  Mention the word and the red flag of fear and ignorance goes up.  It is rare that a "normal" person knows a schizophrenic.  Even rarer that they have a friend that is one.  Except for family members, no one would dare live with one.  At least not in the same room.
 

If you want to experience what it is like for someone with Linda's unique mental powers to endure the world of the "normal", then you must spend some time in it yourself.  Like the view of the desert stars, all four seasons must be taken in before a true picture emerges.  Being in Linda's presence for extended periods of time is a challenge.  Ask anyone whose knows her.  But those of us who have stood by her through thick and thin are the better for it.  We know something very few people know.  And it has less to do with Linda and people like her than it does with us.  I have often wondered, since my journey with Linda started, who the crazy people really are.
 

This is a journey that I don't regret.  On the contrary.  We have ended up saving each other from our worst moments.  We have both emerged from the other side in the best shape of our lives.  But it didn't start out well at all. 
 

It all began one night with a frantic phone call.
 

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