Somewhere, out of the blue, I no longer want to wear my wardrobe.
I want to stand out, I want to move past the ordinary and dress differently.
I want to be remembered, I want to be recognized for my style.
Don’t get me wrong I am not going to start dressing like those weird goths with chunky boots and cliche torn fishnets…..
I just want to dress in a way that truly reflects what I love. Not just shit I’ve found from Forever 21.
This is a new beginning, a reinvention, something new.
The sun rises and soon we leave the house. With coolers and ropes, and a pair of spare clothes. We drive and we drive, farther away from home.
Soon we are pulling, pushing, carrying it down into the water.
Though we live on the coast the air is fresher here. I breathe in, deep.
I am reminded of my childhood; of endless protests, of pushing and pulling, of cold mornings that turn into beautiful days.
My father knows the weather, he predicts the waves, and for once he leaves work to be here. I catch myself staring at him. I love my dad.
My brother pushes me—lightly—but to the point. “Kate”.
I’m lost in thought and still staring, I’ve stopped pushing, I am no longer pulling.
We push her into the water, slowly rising up, and then away—she travels to and fro from the shore. We have to get her in farther.
I can tell my dad is already tired, but he is smiling. His face: gaunt but happy.
Soon we are gone, flying with the wind, and his smile grows.
I sit near front, my long hair flowing behind me, a small smile tickling my lips. I have always pretended to hate this.
My brother sits near back, chatty and informative. I block him out and breathe deep, savoring the moment. I think of all the times we have done this, the exact same thing. We push and we pull, and then we fly.
With the wind in our faces, and the brisk ocean air filling our lungs, we defy the waves. We fly faster than anyone thinks possible, we soar across the ocean and claim it as our own.
My dad teases us, going so fast, closer and closer to our surroundings, until we scream in protest. My dad, the daredevil.
I think of the hours my dad has spent working on this, the hours of his life not spent at work and not spent with us…this is where his heart is.
I look at him again, he has gotten so old in the last 6 months. How did this happen?
I am shaken from my thoughts as he yells switch. For a moment we are all arms and legs, a scramble to our new places, an uneasy rocking that through years of practice we should have perfected—we haven’t. It is still awkward, still forced. Next time it will be better.
But then I’m sad again, what if there is no next time? Every time we do anything I ask that question, a question that I hate. What if this is the last time?
I am awkward and quiet, I force myself to join into the conversation, I butcher my joke and ruin what I’m saying. I insult by accident. A silence falls over the three of us and I wish I had stayed silent.
I turn my gaze to the water, to the deep, dark, unforgiving sea. How many lives have you swallowed? I become so lost and deep in thought I don’t hear the next switch.
I hit my head and they laugh. I smile, rubbing the sore spot.
I lay back, and get absorbed once again into the ocean of my mind. A thousand thoughts, and still no answers. I feel lost and uncertain, but am used to feeling this way.
I close my eyes and try to clear my mind. I let the wind carry all my thoughts and worries away from me. I am enjoying this, this day with my two important men.
We all sit in silence, still flying, still breathing in the ocean air. We are all smiling.
This is the last time we go sailing.
I decided to finally (after 10 years) dress up as my favorite Disney Princess for Halloween this year.
I’ve been trying to stay as accurate as possible to the movie’s design (including skin colour…I’m going to get a spray tan)
Photos showing my creation process to follow