It has been 4 years now since the untimely passing of the angel depicted in the photograph just above these words, and in that time there has been an emptiness in the lives of all who knew her or otherwise knew of her. It is perhaps with a strange twist of providence that the anniversary of her passing has fallen on The Lord's Day, a time of spiritual rest, prayer, worship and reflection for someone of my persuasion. One might argue that I am breaking the Christian Sabbath by uploading this post, but part of me rests assured that this falls under either being a work of mercy or otherwise one of piety.
Many who have come to know the truth about what happened to Lorissa may not share my theological take on things, but all are united in their adoration of this beautiful creature and a desire to see those who took her away punished. But for this occasion I prefer to remember, and what I recall most is how I first came to know of her. As a teen with no sense of self-confidence and afflicted with a high-functioning yet noticeable variant of Asperger's Syndrome, I was often closed off to the world, particularly in the year 1996 when my family moved and I had to start my social life all over again. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that I was completely tuned out, but with it came a sense of loneliness and, at times, despair.
One night after a rough day of trying to adjust to a new high school, I found myself unable to sleep and downstairs flipping the television stations looking for yet another escape. What I found was a film that was the gateway for many of Lorissa's fans, "Lap Dancing", starring a woman that somehow seemed familiar (I had seen her image before on the cover of Playboy's Book Of Lingerie Aug/Sept Issue when I was 12, found in the woods behind my middle school by sheer happenstance, but I didn't realize it until several months later). As time went on and I came of the age where I could follow material without my parent's consent (not that I had it to begin with), I continued to follow her work on cable television and even picked up some copies of her work on VHS and DVD.
One night after a rough day of trying to adjust to a new high school, I found myself unable to sleep and downstairs flipping the television stations looking for yet another escape. What I found was a film that was the gateway for many of Lorissa's fans, "Lap Dancing", starring a woman that somehow seemed familiar (I had seen her image before on the cover of Playboy's Book Of Lingerie Aug/Sept Issue when I was 12, found in the woods behind my middle school by sheer happenstance, but I didn't realize it until several months later). As time went on and I came of the age where I could follow material without my parent's consent (not that I had it to begin with), I continued to follow her work on cable television and even picked up some copies of her work on VHS and DVD.
Suffice to say, I didn't date much, perhaps in part because whether she intended it or not, she had changed the way I saw things, and it isn't much of a stretch to say that few women could compete with her charms, her unique duality of innocence and seductiveness. I don't know if I have the right to say that I loved her since I never met her, and never mustered the courage to attempt to contact her fan club back when I would have been able to, but as David said in his interview with me, "I really hoped that she would succeed". It really is a strange thing how the media technology that we now possess has changed the way we see the world, and yet, I can't help but see parallels with how people have been moved by books, be they non-fiction, fiction, or religious in nature. Perhaps Lorissa's affect on me, on all of us, isn't so atypical or strange.
I sincerely hope and pray that justice will come soon, but more so, I want people to remember her as she was, her true story. It is a tragedy, and yet there is a sense of redemption and triumph to it. She had lost everything, including her own son, but she did not break under the weight of the world, but stood her ground in a Hemingway-like manner, destroyed, yet undefeated. More of this story will come when I post the rest of my interview with David, and due to the unfortunately poor quality of the audio, we will probably do another one when he is in my neck of the woods and we are able to conduct it inside without any distractions.
As I close out this blog, I wish to end with a brief sonnet that I composed for Lorissa, in the old Shakespearean form.
Privileged were the eyes that Adam wore,
The day he awoke to fulfillment's prize,
Such is the blessed sight that man adores,
When caught within the wind as passion cries,
The light be praised, for it revealed your face,
Luminous in itself, transcending reach,
The night be welcome, it hides not your grace,
The smile that mends the heart's unhealed breach,
But oh you twisted world, delusions prevailed,
In madness you slap at God's giving hand,
At his very image, you have assailed,
Flesh of my flesh, broken to ash and sand,
But the candle recalls her and shall stay,
Till the day that you and Death fall away.
Rest in Peace Lorissa.
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