Awake to the dawn

Amid the world, there is but one place that each of us holds. Among the masses we are but one, individually wrapped soul bouncing off the others. What of this wrapping? I look through the wasteful packaging walking down the isles of the local grocery store, is the body such to the Divine as they shop the cosmic shop for a planet to create? Silly thought. But I do revel in this packaging, and I do see it as such for a time like today clearly shows the contents within are not the same as the image of the container.

To the wearer of make-up: Wake Up, shine the inner beauty and find the complementary container your seek with your contents. The put on make-up if you so desire to express the soul. And to myself and those like me: Let the confidence catch up, stick with something; any of the beautiful things/ideas you've been ahead of for so long.

(concludes the fortune cookie portion of this post)

I"ve put my boat, the Nita Jacqueline, on "the hard" as they say. She sits floating in the air, sturdy still resting upon her keel and stands. So concludes my inaugural year of being a sailor, and to my credit (toot-toot), I didn't sink or suffer any serious damage due to negligence.

I did more than just jump off the deep end, a practice I've been working on for a few years now, but I pioneered, or, cleared the over-growth from an old path rather.

The arts of the sailor are many, and the skills I've collected as a carpenter, mechanic, climber, rigger and even artist have all helped to provide me with a good head start. I chose to get rid of my motor in favor of continuing a morally sound baseline lifestyle. There is no way around it, purchasing and burning gas for "fun" is bullshit (whom ever find offence, talk to your conscience, I speak the truth the truth). This presents a few challenges, especially to the novice seaman, namely docking/navigating in tight spots in calms -or- high winds.

At the dock, rarely will you see a sailboat softly sailing into or out of her slip, or being boat-hooked to a point where sails can be hoisted. There is no reason to motor a sailboat except that all-American condition of "Aversion to Discomfort". I am proof that, it is not a difficult thing to dock and shuv-off under sail, or skull with the rudder for I am a novice and have been doing motor less sailing for 6 months.

I was a little (a lot) nervous at first, well, for a while actually. But each time I mad good decisions in the beginning and despite my perception I always ended up with a nice smooth approach and docking. There were times I was frantic, bystanders must of been confused; to see a sailboat gracefully and without a sound drift up to the dock, with her captain running about with dock lines and fenders falling about. I still remember the motor, how on two occasions: I one fell in the water trying to stop her at the slip, and two, stalled the motor before I could put it in revers to slow the boat at the dock, having no choice but to jump ashore and cleat her, slamming her bow into the dock.

Under way, she was kind to me, and sailed as the wind itself. She is a fine boat and a finer home still. I spend this winter on projects to return her to a fully worthy bluewater boat. And I look to the southern waters of a new experience and the continuation of my living adventure.

There goes the last moment in a string of moments past, and yet still more to come; chances for change come and go. I, among the thoughtless crowds of the Fells Point Festival, one of many displaced by the type of materialistic riff raff the congregate at such events. I was threatened by someone claiming to be part of the Living Classrooms Foundation to move my boat. In my place was 60 foot catamaran named "Executive". True poetry: Small, humble boat ousted by "big business". My love prevailed; I left the aged crew to their bubble.

I haul out the famous nameless blue Bristol 27, which will have a name come april. I set out to spend the winter working towards a few things: returning my boat into a fully seaworthy condition, record a album, travel to the mountains and play in the snow and to grow closer and to support my mother in her living while she deals with cancer.

I will be living once again in the home that I grew up in. I've been away from my family for some time, even having been back in Maryland for six months of so. I will live under the same roof as my mother and step father. It will be difficult but due to my nature, may be the last time I will have to spend with my mother. At least, it will be a chance to know her as she has become, as we all grow until we die. she has been growing too, and I have either forgotten or need to she her in her present light to grow the relationship between a mother and her son.

I will like to once and for all, celebrate all the gifts I have; all the people who are present in my life who do let me drift away to the sea of dispare. I'm a needy person, this is no secret. I walk these days with the words from a friend: "You deserve love". I continue the opening of my heart