Let Love Rule - Lenny Kravitz Page 0,71

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.”

I said, “I mean right now.”

She smiled and said, “Right now.”

“Let’s go.”

Blissfully, we ate breakfast, trying to figure out the quickest way to get married. We couldn’t do it in L.A. because L.A. required blood tests, and blood tests meant waiting days for the results. Fuck that.

We found out that Vegas had no blood test requirement, so Vegas was the place. We jumped into the Mustang and raced over to Antiquarius, an estate jewelry store in Beverly Hills, where we each picked an antique ring. Then we drove straight to LAX and bought two tickets on PSA, whose airplanes had a smile on the nose.