21 Years

I'm writing this post from my brand new iPhone, my birthday gift. Now that my 27th birthday has come and gone, however, I must take note of a much more important gift. 21 years ago, my mother and her boyfriend walked into a mall in Nice, France, and they stopped in a shop that sold toys. After looking over the wide selection of stuffed animals, they settled on a small black panther with bright green eyes. They delivered him to an extatic 6 year old, who named him Moonlight, because his eyes seemed to glow in the light of the moon at night.

21 years later, he still has some of his original silky hair under his legs and in his ears, but the rest of him bears the marks of 21 years of love. He only has two wiskers left, and there are a couple of little bare spots here and there, but he is in great shape and his eyes still glow in the light of the moon. He's been to every country, every state, every place I've ever been, even out to sea.

I'm sure people think I'm nuts for the devotion I show this little kitty, considering that he's a stuffed animal, but I've never thought of him as anything less than real, anything less than the best, most loving friend I have. So here is a very Happy 21st Birthday to my Moonlight.

depths

I don't know why I think about these things, but sometimes random contemplation comes to me in random places. I was thinking about how some people are really shallow, transparent, and others are really deep. I eventually decided that people are like the ocean.

Some people are like the Keys. Some are murky from the wave action churning up the sand till you can hardly see anything and there isn't much to them. Others are clear and bright and you can see long distances underwater. They are colorful and full of life, just like the reefs you find in the Keys.

Others are like the deep ocean. Their personalities may stay near the surface, where the light filters in, or they are very dark and unfathomable as they go deeper. Where the ocean looses all light is a forbidding, pitiless place, where life must struggle to survive.

I think I'm like the part of the ocean where the continent drops away into the abyss. I can see long distances around me, and there is a lot of life and color there, on the continental shelf. There is also darkness, if only I step off the edge. But I choose to stay near the surface, loving the light and color and life that flourishes there.

Cheers!

The Things My Hands Do...

This is the final outcome of a very long running project. I was shocked when I saw it for the first time, in stone... I've been staring at it for weeks in clay on a piece of plywood.

amazing

This morning my iPod woke me with some Led Zeppelin, and as I rolled over and turned the light on, I realized what day it was. It was the first day of living in a country with an African-American President. All I could think of was that black and white photo that Charles Gibson showed on tv last night, of Mr. Obama with the simple caption of "Mr. President."

I can't explain the feelings that I've had all day. I have no words to describe them properly. Pride? Confidence? Feeling good to be an American (for once)? Its a little of everything, but much much more.

When this whole race began, years ago, I didn't know what to think. I carefully ignored all of the useless retoric tossed around since the primaries, and tried not to take too seriously the negative ads on both sides. I was disdainful of the masses that followed Obama. And I really liked McCain. I did. I wanted to vote for him. But I wasn't going to make up my mind till I saw the debates.

The debates changed my mind. That and Palin. I like her, but not as VP. She's too green, too unknown. And McCain's attitude during the debates...I found myself getting more and more frustrated watching him. I've spent 8 years being frustrated and disgusted with the Shrub, and I didn't want to spend another 4, maybe 8, feeling that way again.

Throughout the race, I have only been following it online and on the radio, so as the months passed, I found myself completely forgetting the color issue. But when I turned on the tv last night to watch the results coming in, I slowly realized that we were about to see the impossible dream come true. When Mr. Gibson said in a slightly unsteady voice that Barack Obama was the 44th President of the United States, I felt my heart jump. (I want to stress that I am not an ObamaManiac.) But at that moment I felt prouder of my country than I ever have, prouder of the people who decided to give him a chance.

The proof of last night's success was at school this morning. That every single 6th grade class I entered today cheered for our new President was proof of the awesomeness of the day. And the beaming faces of every single one of our African-American students, among all of the excited students all over campus, made me feel like the day couldn't get any better.

Welcome to the New World.