Despite Lisa’s insistence on doing Angel Heart, Cosby and NBC forged ahead with A Different World, where Denise leaves the Huxtable home in Manhattan to attend Hillman, a fictional Black college. Marisa Tomei and Jasmine Guy were Lisa’s costars. The first season was a hit and won the People’s Choice Award as Best New Comedy.
Lisa asked me to come visit her on set at Universal Studios. As I drove through the lot and arrived at the location, it was déjà vu. A Different World was being shot on the exact same soundstage where I’d grown up. This was where The Jeffersons had been taped. It felt like home.
Upon seeing me, Lisa ran and jumped right into my arms. I really was home. I immediately noticed she had gotten her nose pierced. She looked like an Indian goddess.
After the shoot, I drove over to the Gauntlet, a body piercing studio on Santa Monica Boulevard, where Jim Ward, a pioneer of the movement, pierced my nose.
On the music front, I was having problems. The demos I’d cut with Raf and Danny were generating interest from major labels, which meant I should have been thrilled. Except I wasn’t. I was hesitant. Something again said “Wait.” But what was that something? The guys didn’t understand what I was waiting for. I wasn’t even sure myself. It was just that same gnawing feeling in my gut.
These songs weren’t what I was supposed to be doing. I hung around, but the more I distanced myself from the band, the more pissed off my bandmates became. Conversely, the more time I spent with Lisa, the more I was changing emotionally. New feelings were forming in my heart. Those feelings were slowly turning into songs, but songs with a vibe that had nothing to do with the band. These were songs that reflected my inner soul.
Things sped up. Four or five times a week, I was running from the downtown loft to visit Lisa at her gingerbread house in Venice. She read me poetry. I played my guitar. We listened to records and watched films. She told me stories of her childhood—the way her mom had loved and supported her, the way her dad had abandoned her. Like me, she had half siblings, but, also like me, she was raised as an only child. She was seeking her other half. So was I.
While a storm of heavy emotions swirled around me, Lisa’s home became my safe harbor. We saw eye to eye on absolutely everything. In seeing her, I was able to see myself. Her company gave me reassurance, and she believed in instincts as much as I did. I wanted to be around her all the time.
Mitzi saw my obsession with Lisa. How could she not? She knew that my feelings for Lisa went beyond friendship. She knew that there wasn’t room in my life for both her and Lisa. She confronted me, and I told her the truth. Lisa and I were not lovers, but, yes, I couldn’t stay away from her. Even if it was just friendship, it was a friendship that had consumed my heart.
Mitzi and I broke off our engagement. I knew I had hurt her, and I also knew I had no excuse. The fault was mine. Love had pulled me away. I was sorry, but I also wasn’t about to give up Lisa.
“If you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”
A DIFFERENT WORLD
It was the name of Lisa’s show, but also a perfect description of what my life was becoming.
Because I had no car, Lisa let me drive her to Burbank every morning in her sixties Mustang and borrow it all day while she was on set. I’d hit a studio session in Hollywood or go rehearse somewhere until it was time to pick her up and drive her back to the beach. My crosstown commute took hours. So, to make things easier, she offered me a room in her house, where I put my instruments. I moved in. Yet we still hadn’t violated the terms of our friendship.
We talked from morning to night, about everything under the sun. And it just felt so effortless. We offered one another unconditional support. It was beautiful. Out of that beauty came even more songs. I began seeing and hearing myself differently. Lisa was bringing out something in me I’d never seen before. The poetry of her soul excited the poetry of my soul. She gave me courage, inspired me, changed my whole artistic attitude. That attitude used to be How am I going to make it? Lisa helped me change it to How can I reveal my real self?
It all went back to searching, digging deep, and discovering what was there. As always, there were detours. Example: while Lisa was working on her TV show and I was working on my music, I learned that auditions were being held for Spike Lee’s new film, School Daze. One part required someone who could sing. What did I have to lose? While everyone had boomboxes and prerecorded tracks, I walked in and sang, of all things, David Bowie’s “Life on Mars,” a cappella.
The casting director had no idea what she had just witnessed and had only one word: “Next.”
I guess you could have called us hippies. Lisa and I were excited to be living in a world of gypsies. Our friends were artisans working with crystals and beads; costume designers and dancers; mystics and poets. Even though Lisa had become a major icon of pop culture, our social circle was small. We lived inside a cocoon of creativity.
My look began to change. When I met Lisa, I still processed my hair and wore it in a ponytail. But when I moved in with her, I forgot to bring my comb. I was so in the moment that I didn’t even think about it. Before I knew it, my hair began to dred. Lisa liked the locks, and so did I.
Lisa passionately supported my music—even though, after all these years, I didn’t have any real success, still no record out there. I spent countless hours woodshedding in my room in the gingerbread house. Sometimes I made a little money as a studio session player, and sometimes I got an engineer to help me record whatever music I was experimenting with.
One evening, I was alone at a studio on the dark edge of Hollywood. The other musicians had gone home, and I was behind the drum kit, deep into a pocket. When I looked through the control room window, I saw Lisa, and we both smiled. Patiently, for the next half hour, she watched me work. At some point, I took a break and walked over to her. She asked where the bathroom was. I said I’d show her. As we took a couple of steps into the corridor, Lisa tripped over a cord and, unexpectedly, fell into my arms. We were face-to-face. Time suddenly stopped. We stared into each other’s eyes.
What’s going on?
What’s happening?
In a moment, everything changed.
We started kissing.
It was the most natural thing I had ever experienced.
The feeling was otherworldly. Looking back, I see it makes perfect sense. We had done it right. We had developed a true friendship. We had opened our hearts and shown each other the depths of our souls—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Without analysis, without anticipation, without even trying, we had fallen madly in love.
That night, I moved into Lisa’s room.
Destiny had led us here.
With every passing hour, our love blossomed.
Premonition turned to prophecy.
Prophecy turned to ecstasy.
CHAPEL OF LOVE
Lisa and I woke up on the morning of her twentieth birthday, November 16, 1987. I wished her a happy birthday and told her I was going to give her a thousand kisses. One by one, I counted out each kiss until I’d reached a thousand.
We were lying in bed, just staring at each other, when the words came out of my mouth: “You know I’d marry you.”
She touched my face softly and said, “I’d marry you, too.”