I'm in a Hurry to Slow Things Down
26/11/07 11:29
Down to the sand where the seven-tailed kite spins precision circles and swan dives in the westward wind and a silly little kid sprays pink goo and giggles from a can.
Thanksgiving weekend on the beach and I am grateful.
Grateful for uncles holding hands with their nieces hopping on one foot and pampered fun dogs riding shotgun on bikes or skateboards, blow-dried fur flowing in the November breeze, tongues flapping happily, long white canines glistening with drool.
I'm grateful for the lean-bodied monkey humans dangling one arm twirling on the ring swings scissor-kicking an ounce of their potential into the blue gym sky.
Two dollars puts me up up up by the power of the sun over waves and fishermen eagle eyeing silver goldmines and sandlines a hazy hue of lazy ferris wheel pink and teal.
I am grateful for Flagman Ron who wears or carries his tattered American flag, white beard freshly trimmed and combed deceptively groomed well-behaved under his wide brimmed hat until his next victim gets a spoonful of his SPIRIT. "Be Happy!" he bellows, canned heat close to the boardwalk world, then breaks into song.
A lone bongo player on the sunset hill bangs it out beside his big red hound calling forth wishes and dreams, sending forth wishes and dreams, and the old man I'm grateful for, "my sunset friend" I call him because we've never spoken and I see him every day at sunset, somebody's grandfather, sits behind glass in his home with a view of the waves - and waves, then flips me two thumbs up, then the peace sign. One day he stood up to proudly reveal the words, the most we've ever exchanged, on his T-shirt: "Venice Beach Skinny Dipper."
A little girl in a wheelchair blazes down the paved path huffing and pumping - pumping with the words "Live Your Life" across her Tee and a smile across her face beaming.
I'm grateful for random smiles exchanged between strangers just because the sun is out and we're out Living Our Life.
Slow down. Be grateful. Be happy. Live your life...and go skinny dipping.
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Big Sur
02/11/07 09:42
Meet me in Big Sur where ragged rocks threaten like menacing bladed soldiers and protect like a sharp barnacled cliff wall billions of tides strong; where California condors soar over ancient redwood spears on the spicy eucalyptus wind that comes cold and furious like a sea-chilled gale, then suddenly bows soft on your face with a scented kiss of sunwarmth peeled from a thermal layer ridden by a solitary golden eagle with 10-foot wingspan; where transparent fog fingers creep in like shadows from obscurity reaching to tickle or taunt, then out of the blue wrap the world in a surprise silent embrace before evaporating into heaven.
Meet me in Big Sur where idle is idol. Lay your combustible head down in the fire glow of a fall afternoon and feel volatility transformed in rest even on quaking ground – possibility infinite possibility…
Convergence of land and sea – in quiet contemplation - your rugged mass and my feminine water – one.