A Fresh Perspective

Everything looks different from above.  Most of us are stuck with the same views, from the same heights, often seen from a car window.  This idea of "expanded processing" applies  to our thinking, when more often than not, we treat conversations head-on, and forget to see the bigger picture.  Out of our routine, away from our secular blind spots, a new world reveals itself. Having the opportunity to take flights to a fresh destination lends the opportunity of leaving routine perspective of your every day “reality” showing you new angles and sights.  After the time away you come back to your old norm with fresh and renewed mind and heart-set.  The same can be said about my long weekend away.

 This is my first prop plane...ever…I think. This is the LIAT Caribbean airlines island hopper, a 24 seater plane for inter- island travel.  Already from my seat on the runway St Lucia looks small.  Small like a caricature shadow box, a deep green mountain shape with colorful miniature houses dappled in its nape.  There’s old, barely discernible, dilapidated buildings with rusted roofs, rugged into its chin.  I gleam, remarking for the millionth time how unreal, almost cartoonish, the vista always seems to me.  

Taking off marvels more "unreal" views of spectacular sea, emerald and saturated... edged by tanned sandy beach.  Color saturates my soul and I stare beyond into the cloud lands before me.  We must be close to Martinique, I wonder.  Dipped in cloud dessert, I look out for island topography but between distant flat and darkish clouds its unclear whether island is cloud or cloud is island.

Today has already shown me magic.  Exactly one year ago was the passing of my grandma, who still unto now remains close at my side. Today is one of those days I can feel her.  She loved to travel herself, with trips as far as the Polynesian islands, Australia and New Zealand, and Alaska.  She loved hearing about my travel adventures to different parts of the world, and it was no doubt she was up for this weekend trip over to Barbados.  I don pieces of her jewelry, turquoise rings, and a beaded island necklace, in special honor.  Surprisingly tears pool in my eyes as I miss her.  But she's working her magic already, to the extent of helping me make it through emigration with no problems (even though I was way over my allowed stay).   Everyone I’ve encountered is super cheery and friendly and its contagiousness has boosted my own spirits immensely from the ever-easy straight mouth syndrome picked up from the masses on island.  I was seated at a window seat in an emergency row AND no one next to me, without any request on my part.  I enjoyed the spaciousness and the time to contemplate by myself.

In no time at all we are already coming up upon Barbados. It is absolutely flat but I can see already a few spectacular beaches with quintessential Caribbean color- turquoise unreal.  From the air the land looks like dry country, unorganized farm- land, like something out of the Midwest, yet just dappled with coconut palms.

A dear new friend reminded me the art of having magical days, through simply his way of being.  Everyday can be that, and why not? And the time away, extracted from the norm, continued expressing its capacity of possibility in each present moment.  New corners for learning, while expansion ensued.  My sis and I had a beautiful hotel room to ourselves, overlooking beautiful Oistins beach.  Little Arches 5 star boutique hotel made good use of a Mediterranean and Caribbean feel, from terracotta tiled floors, and natural stone accents, to wooden carved details on doors.  We ventured out right away and found our way to a seaside spot called Bethsheba Bay.  Massive stone formations washed and shaped by sea and wind, anchored themselves close to cliff shores, shining faces of giants and animal resemblances in one’s creative mind.  We immediately dressed for a photo shoot, capturing each of us in homage to the seductive setting.  The wind was muse, creating the mood for our backdrop, while we flew our scarves and danced in its shapes.  A special energy and mystery filled the dry grasses around these cliffs, and with the evidence of captured shots, it was as if Bethsheba herself exuded her graces, blowing windy currents from her provocative mouth.  

A perfect night-time, beach- side setting lined by copper stemmed torches, my sis and I had the best table in the place and shared a meal of scrumptious sushi and Asian greens.  For me the meal was a satisfaction long awaited.  I don’t get food like this back in St. Lucia, and so I marveled in each bite of fish, while an accent of flavors like chipotle mayo and a red wine and tamarind reduction danced on my tongue.  From there we met up with my sister’s man friend- the reason she was there.  He was there was for a soccer tournament, along with the team of 14 other Argentine men accompanying him.  We stepped out over the “walls” of our door-less, yellow Poke rental car and were met by them with dropped jaws and pleased expressions.  Perhaps we exceeded some expectations . . . Right away we were submerged in a sea of men mostly in their forties, and all speaking Spanish.  Twas delicious to be united with my connection to the Latin culture, and a few handsome fellows was certainly welcome eye candy, especially coming from an island where you always see the same people, with attractive ones few and far between.

One thing that Barbados can happily boast is their beautiful beaches.  The settings are simply serene.  The next day we took full advantage of the nearby beach and delighted in another fun photo shoot with each other, accented by the abstractly shaped rock edging the beach.  That night we joined the team at their beach house while they grilled freshly caught fish for dinner.  The party was live, fine Malbec, good people and conversation and even better musica and dancing.  

One could not beat the setting of the open sky dappled with stars and waxing moon, encircled in gold resonance.      
 . . . a simple reach for the hand . . . 

For our last day of play my sis and I opted to drive up to visit some caves on the very northern tip of the island.  From our place all the way at the island's southern tip, we traversed our way and made it there a little over an hour later.  The adventure was well worth it.  In fact this exquisite cave made the whole trip as far as nature is concerned.  26 steps down and you enter a vast cave maybe 10 thousand square feet.  The entire area was framed in beautifully formed, sand colored rock striations created over time, some jagged and some smoothed over.  At certain times the cave would be washed through from the Atlantic ocean just over the mouths opening and not accessible, but that day was a good day to visit.  As we entered into the second large “room” the true beauty of nature revealed an inviting pool, a clear subdued teal color.  The “shore” had a shallow sandy bottom with diagonal striations looking like desert blown sands.  The pool was outlined in dark color forest green hues.  She was simply spectacular and her salty waters seemed to rejuvenate and cleanse our beings. 

Steph and I made the journey back feeling blissed out, and barely saying a word from peaceful contentment.  That night was our farewell dinner, enjoying delicious, classy Italian cuisine, and my favorite top shelf tequila.  We continued our party back out onto our beach, more great music, great company, and . . . well . . . a little midnight skinny- dipping in black waters beneath a reflective moonset. 

I am grateful for the fresh perspective I gained from this little trip.  I got my confidence back.  Reassurance of the great photographer that lies within, a resurgence of inspiration to channel my inner creative writer, as well as physical flattery from men who appreciated my beauty and expressed it to me in gentlemanly ways.  Perhaps even greater were moments of realization.  I was simply waiting in line at customs and the zest of being a travel writer again clearly expressed itself within me.  I don’t know what I’ll do or where I’ll go next in my next life chapter, but I see myself in many an airport being paid to go to new places and make creative pieces for publication.  Being in the company of Argentines also re-sparked my passion for Tango and fulfilling that dream of living in Buenos Aires to further my experience with the dance.  Feeling the power of courage to pursue my dreams feels damn good as well as remembering the feeling of soulful ecstasy I get from dancing tango.  

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Seductress at midnight ...
beneath a star encircled playa

The moon the star of the show

And it was all yellow . . .

I tango her

I watch her playful youthful eyes dance 
in the moon’s mothering reflection

Her happy breasts peek 
their shape underneath the ivory dress she wore

Tied up, a bow high on her waist

a gift underneath...and within...

Her eyes remained low towards the ground

But her body danced divine expression

The balance of the total being 
shown in understood symmetry

Her toes flirted, 
pointing as they extended the panther leg into each "ocho" 

a whim to my every lead...

The mignonette to my puppeteer

I'd never imagined that it'd be she that showed ...not her...not this

But energy is ...and energy has attracted likeness and for that I reap the reward

Her leg sweeps into a rounded flick

Playful and seductive ...the stir inside me

But she cannot be mine …at least not now

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Yo se que hizo mi corazón cuando pensé de ti

Era la imagen abrazándonos mientras bailando lento

O fue cuando tocaste mi mano después que dije mi cuenta de mi rompimiento

Estaba con el mío nuevamente... 

Y casi cometi un error cuando casi suspire en español palabras ricas como 
hueles tan rico y, si así