woof. full day. im fucking beat.
first the indian festival. it was hot out in the ol san antonio and the smell of curry and the human body was everywhere. colors were everywhere. me and the girls walked and watched, feeling slightly out of place but all the same, trying. we got the henna hands and gale got the yoga therapy. while the artist was doing my tat another lady next to me settled in for one. she was older and smelled of other places. obvious. she was giggling and 50 something, white haired and in the holds of that ignorant touristy excitement. im sure she was thrilled, after all she was in the midst of something "cultural" and would share every detail with the broads from cards on monday after next. i laughed alittle and the artist smeared a heart. oh well. i tasted the strange foods and watched in a complete trance the dances the children were putting on. one little girl, who was last to perform, was really feeling the music. as she danced her expressions glowed and her feet switched. her wrists bending and her head bowing. she was wonderful.
sadly, i couldnt take my mind off of richard gere.
[public affection and whatnot]
we walked la villita, through stifling air and people. we went to the bonsai tree store that i havent been in in years. i remembered something. i had to know. i walked up to the woman at the counter.
"excuse me ma'am? do you remember the older man who used to sit out there and make origami?"
"oh mr. nod? why yes sweetie, he actually passed away about three years ago."
"oh. really? me and my brother used to come and see him all the time. he made me quite a few things in my younger days. im so sad to hear that."
"i knew him for almost 20 years. people ask about him everyday"
"well thank you for the info. im sorry"
as we left i made a mental note to go back for a tree. i had a deep sense of loss at what i had just heard.
overall the experience was a pleasant one. i could imagine how comfortable the people there were feeling. seeing familiar faces and hearing the same tones from people who had shared the same land. it was a nice thought. spare me not being able to share it.
now the lake. we had visited my mom and abandoned the mall and feeling froggy we hatched up a plan to go to the lake. we called the boys, told them to get the fuck ready and we were off. not without hitches but we made it.
the lake was amazing.
we found this little strip of gravel beach and we could see most of the water and the hills. we could see houses across the stretch of blue and green and waves moved the sound in the air. we were alone. we were drinking and swimming. smoking and talking. the sun was setting and the clouds were holding behind them ferocious shades of pink and purple. as it sank it turned red and the reflection led straight to you no matter where you stood. it was beautiful.
after it was dark and our heads were light we came home. heres me, face still slightly warm and henna ink clinging to my hand.
thank you saturday.