There are a lot of metaphors that come from waves.

I sat on the beach or the rocks or perched up kneeling in a window, watching the Pacific, two weeks ago. Just after sunrise and all morning with coffee and all midmorning and late afternoon while my friends rode their surfboards in and out, and through the long sunsets too, I was just a set of eyes. I wrote a bunch about it, in a notebook that's already full and on a shelf - how graceful the whole strange surfing thing is, how simple, that it doesn't destroy anything (maybe I am naive, but): how it makes an event out of what already exists.

And with the most intuitive of evidence, decides how to respond appropriately.

Knowing the opportunity will arise again and again ceaselessly and also won't, not ever again, not in this particular form.

I wrote all about it and recognized that I wasn't writing anything new - my favorite book in the world is Woolf's The Waves - but metaphors are also ever-presenting intuitive events, which we can choose to acknowledge or or not.

When I tried my hand at surfing, after being a set of eyes for days, I felt like a very small child. Literally. My beautiful friends-in-love were my guides, I had dyed my hair purple and wore it in pigtails every day, and the wetsuit made me a curveless nymph. I figured some things out, playfully, and fell a bunch of times and stood up a little bit and slid around with sunscreen stinging my eyes. Then I wanted to go farther out, and . . . as you may predict without prompting, I got CRUSHED by a wave. I got crushed TWO TIMES and of course I fought back, and I saw some deep pink fear in me and I backed away from the serious ocean and I couldn't sleep that night because WAVES. Waves in my dreams.

The chosen metaphors there are many, and they're pretty good. I'll let you choose your own. Where I cannot ride a surfboard on the scary ocean, I will ride a damn metaphor all day long. Til everyone is tired of watching.

This vacation was really good. If you don't follow my Instagram, you missed heaping spoonfuls of intentional jealousy-incitement. I'm going to hold onto this subtle chillness for as long as possible, but I'm also going to announce Valentine's Day flower plans next week, because here comes Valentine's Day, here it comes here it comes like a wave ohmyjesus, so don't lose hope for me yet.

Thanks be for beautiful friends.

Thanks be for beautiful friends.

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