I turn toward the surf club and am struck by the scene. I regret for a moment that I left my camera behind, but quickly realise its absence allows me perfect presence with my experience. I breathe it in. The sun is rising, casting an eerie glow on the horizon behind two punctuating palm trees.
Category: Reflection
Rubbed The Right Way :)
With thanks and gratitude to my adversaries, My muses in an inverted kinda way Yet. This is not enough to say Your posts remove my lid, and my inner wellspring flows… a little irritation and a pearl the oyster grows.
The Castaway
Among his possessions, I find remnants of his former life. A dust-encrusted black-and-white photo of him lovingly embracing his former partner and their son. A letter of adoration from his youngest daughter. The charred remains of a painting by his eldest, a family silhouette of children and parents frolicking on the beach. As I clean, I wonder: am I helping to clean the stains of the past or desecrating a shrine.
This Ol House: A Journey of Renovation and Renewal
“There is an energy here… unlike any I have felt in other places. It creates a cocoon… a powerful catalyst for the deep to flow.”
Pattern and Light
I planted chilli seeds… must have been months ago. I found two sprouting in a little pot and on the verge of expiring due to a lack of water and nourishment. Lately, I’m having a love affair with the garden. This time, I am in a better place in my mind. I guess I have…
Behind The Eight Ball
You never met your paternal Grandfather, her husband and your Dad’s Father. All your Dad told you about him was that he died while potting the eight-ball in a game of pool; it occurs to you that there’s an explanation (other than your misspent youth) for your prowess with a pool cue and your chronic…
It’s Not All Black and White
“There is a grief
Carried in my bones forever
So profound that I fear
If I meet it fully I will die.”
The Spirit of Palm Beach
I’ve been tempted to judge myself as desperate and needy, indulging Mills and Boonesque fantasies of a romance with the ghost of a troubled surfer-boy from Palm Beach.
Palmy Boy
As you rode that bike, you head hanging forward…shoulders to your ears..
Skinny jeaned knees splayed …
sun bleached, dirty curls swinging…
You body made you look like you were bracing yourself for impact…
Permanently.
Indelible
I scan the water for his familiar body language. He is a big man who’s weight partially submerges his Malibu as he moves through the water. His paddling style is stiff… the legacy of a shoulder injury many years ago. His bald head pushes through the air like a guided missile. His stance on the…
Primal Scream
“I am more awake than I have ever been… yet reeling from the dream.”
The Sound of Her Voice 