Savage Son

The orange sun burns overhead tinting his shirtless body a golden brown. His feet are caked with mud and brown splotches are scattered all over his legs and plaid shorts. He carries around a sizeable stick in his left hand as he searches the leaf-covered yard for unknown treasures and unseen foes. His feet crunch the dry brittle leaves as he quickly maneuvers his way around. The once peaceful lizards that were sunning themselves on the jagged lava rocks nearby, madly rush away in search for cover. He snarls at the scurrying creatures like a lion in pursuit of its prey. He is full of splendid abandon and as wild as the tangled curled mane on his head.

I like to watch him through the kitchen window (hidden away, like a lover, in the soft shadows) of the house. I stand there next to the screen and dusty louvers enthralled by the marvel of this savage being that I birthed five years ago. His movements, words and thoughts captivate me and I, become enchanted. Viewing him uncensored, not playing up to someone's perception I feel as if I can see his true essence, which at this moment in time is all "snips of snails and puppy dog tails." 

"I'll get you," he yells at the invisible enemy he's encountered and he waves his stick around as if it was a precious sword that's been forged in the blazing furnace of a medieval blacksmith's. He takes wild swings at the air as he yells, "ha, yeah, take this and that." Finally, with one slow deep dramatic stab he stands there momentarily and declares, "You're dead." He drops his stick down on the ground, tired with his killing game and races to his bicycle. 

He feverishly pedals around the yard expertly avoiding plastic balls and the white plumeria trees but always running through the mud puddles in the driveway and towards the scampering dogs retreating from his sight. He's in a trance and he can't stop moving round and round. He cocks his head to the side and extends his arm out. He separates his fingers to let the wind rush through them and as he pedals he metamorphoses and has become one with the flow of air. He's a tan gust of blur whirling around and unsettling the leaves as he passes along.

He abruptly stops and drops his bicycle as he gets off of it. " Oh, I'm dizzy" he declares to no one in particular as he stumbles about drunk on life. Unable to walk a steady course he dramatically falls on the ground declaring "Ah", as he lands. He laughs loudly to himself as he lies on his back and stares at the fiery red billowy clouds parading high in the infinite sky. An unsuspecting gecko gently crawls onto his mountainous arm. He glances at his arm and his eyes sparkle like stars. In a flash he grabs the creature with his strong fingers. The gecko kicks his slinky little legs scratching his captor with his tiny nails as he desperately trys to escape. He rises, gripping the gecko tighter almost suffocating it. He is unaware of the tremendous strength he has. The poor gecko goes limp and becomes submissive.

He slowly walks over to the impressive mango tree. The tree has low hanging branches that span out of its center which are irresistible to climb. He's talking to his little friend as he walks sharing little bits of this and that. With one hand free and the other clenched he climbs a branch and sits down. He slowly and delicately opens his small fingers like a blossoming flower, exposing the gecko to the filtered light of the trees canopy. The gecko blinks a couple of times and darts out of his hand and runs. It soon becomes camouflaged among the trees bark and seems to have vanished like magic. "Bye." He yells into the seemingly emptiness. 

He himself easily jumps down off the tree and lands with a loud thud. He's landed on top of some weeds that have a vibrant purple flower. With his mouth open he bends down and starts to pick them. He has a big shining smile on his face as he straightens up and runs towards the welcoming house. "Mom, look at what I have for you." He excitedly yells as he enters through the door muddy, sweaty and joyful.

the sun always rises

sunrises are not created the same, they are all so easily different, even on the same day...just depends from where one watches the sun come up and sometimes as the sun rises there's a sudden warmness that illuminates and gently touches the face, as with a hand...enjoy your sunrise, where ever you might be...... one of my sun rise pics 

roots

what is lucky for my son is that he has 2 parents present in his life that love him and encourage him in his dreams whatever they may be at the time. from his father he can trace his ancestors far, to King Kamehameha and some Moloka'i princess but the type of ancestors is not the point here, just that he is able to trace back far. he has roots and they are solid, deep and strong, on his fathers side. 

i have no roots. i have no father and my mother is gone. i was born in one country, raised in another and live in a location far from where i grew up and far from my immediate family. there's talk about a great grand father that was a judge from Spain and a grandfather that gambled and played polo. i say that there's Mayan blood in my family, how could there not be, i spoke Mayan as a child and the blood is all mixed up in those countries. from my side his roots are words and thoughts, so light that they can easily be blown away like a birthday candle extinguished on a cake.

sometimes i long for roots so i can be known, so my spirit and accomplishments could be recognized. maybe that is why i live in a small beach town because it's a place where people know your name. sometimes i wonder if all my moving around as a child and not having a solid ground contributed to my fear of getting close to someone in a relationship although that's the thing i long for the most, to be close and accepted despite all my silly faults and a quick temper that easily settles to a puff of sweet smoke. 

other times however i'm alright because i feel something of a global citizen, didn't we all derive from the same place in Africa after all and what is all this silly business about drawing invisible lines on the Earth and water. i love all people and all countries, i think. but what is really lucky for me is that my son provides some stability in my half of the time nomadic soul and some of the time longing soul.

what a mood I'm in..

there's this tempest in my heart, in my body right now and it's swirling, turning, lashing out in pain at times and anger at other times and I don't want to feel it.. I don't want to fuel it, I just want to laugh at it and shake my head and say "silly little tempest, it's alright, it's all right" and I will hug it as it begins to move slower, until it slows and dissipates and I'm left there holding just myself....

the song just seems to fit in with the mood..

and so...

    And so here I am, again attempting to keep a blog. I have noticed that I am the type of person that can't keep to something for awhile, not like A.D.D just, my addiction to things is not strong suppose. I can stay at a place for employment for a long time and I can have relationships for a long time as well but as far as having an addictive gene, well it seems I don't have one. Or it could be that I'm just very interested in evolving to the next thing a supposed activity brings to me. However, that doesn't mean I don't enjoy whatever it is I am doing at that moment, like blogging or photography.

   Since I was last here blogging a lot has happened to me and one very important thing that has changed me is photography! I have come to really love it and see things in with a different sight. I do have an Olympus point and shoot but my iphone is actually responsible for really introducing me to my new love and instagram, an app I have been using every day. The above photo is an iphone macro shot of a rain drop after hiking in the tropical lushness of the island.