Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Paddling in blood and other things money can't buy

This is an addendum to surprise trampolines, as that's come up a lot lately. I had a chance to go paddling today with some First Nations friends. I had work to do. But no appointments. I had just gone to see them off this morning, and then go to work. They invited me along, and I went.

They talked about family. And Art. Making Art to show what's yours. Making art to teach the world. Money can buy art. But can it buy eyes to see?

My family's not here. But they are. I can't go visit them. But they're with me all the time. Today my friends paddled back up a river of blood - their own. And I paddle up mine. I longed, as they spoke, to go back home. For they spoke of place.

Then I had eyes to see - the home of my blood has never been a place - but an idea. My Dad did it his way (with politics) my Grandfather his (with his fists), I mine.

I swam, ate salmon, got a sunburn, laughed, cried (almost), made new friends, and paddled.

Today was a day money can't buy.

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