Sunday, August 9, 2009

Architectural Psyche...

Photo: web foundling

Archetypes are made, stone by stone, image by image.

Waves were junk at The Drive Through. Grabbed my fins, hung my key around my neck and ran a minute or fifteen to Triton's Doorstep. Bodysurf session ensues. A few caverns explored. Sinus flood and tired legs my reward. All around are clones.

Twenty seven 6'2 thrusters, a few fishies, and me. The Logos are important. The wetsuits are important (Matuse is the new SD uniform by the way). The scowls are important. People can make almost anything into a competition. A beautiful, simple, sublime activity mangled by human insecurities and corresponding narcissism. Don't they know that I stopped going to Church to escape the pollution of the perfect by The Body Politic? I'm a member of The Church of the Open Sky. Look up and see the glide of the gull, gaze down and see me, sliding along on my belly, arm outstretched in an embrace to hold the whole of the sea close to me.

On the way back to The Drive Through a few of us are chatting. "I would love to live there." Yes. An elevator down to separate me from The Rest. A circle of windows giving me reign over a kingdom that I serve. The tide and wind would be my clock. The swell would be my church bell. Ring, sweet sea, ring.


Eef said...

That's very beautifull. Thanks!


borntoloser said...

My pleasure, Eef! Slide some northern swell for me!