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MY AMERICAN BODY

January 6th, 2011

My body lies over the ocean.

My body lies over the sea.

My body lies over the ocean.

Oh, bring back my body to me.

Sung to the tune of ” My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” a Scottish song.

Twenty years ago I stood on the platform, naked, posed, and barely breathing.

Counting my heartbeats I listened to the scratching of chalk against the paper. Their faces hidden behind easels and sketching pads, my friends, colleagues, lovers, and various strangers gathered around the Wood Burning stove keeping warm at 7 Dunham Place.

These are the memories of my perfect youthful body.

On this forty-something birthday I judge my American body like all Americans do.

This covered in clothing, wrapped in ornaments, embalmed with toxins, saturated with lies, buried under emotions, or simple container holds miles of traveled roads.

My body has been torn, tossed, broken, bitten, poked, scratched, crushed, and burned.

The rough edges are now smooth and the curves have become jagged.

Please observe the bumps, the bruises, the cracks and the crevices.

See the inside scars on the outside?

This body of wisdom, knowledge, experience, compassion, confidence, tenacity, tolerance, and determination survives and thrives.

My body is drama.

My American body is judged from the outside.

My American body yearns to leave this Continent for a Country without judgment.

I search for freedom in the healing waters around the world.

Lifted by the salts of the Dead Sea.

Rocked by the rough waters of Cinque Terre.

Soothed by the cool blues of Casablanca.

Blown away by the winds of the Bay Islands.

Warmed on the beaches of Finale Ligure.

Browned by the banks of the Volga River.

Transformed on the shores of Paros Island.

These memories are out of body and sometimes out of mind.

My American body remembers what it wants to.

Back in America I reassure my body by going to the Day Spa.

Drowning out memories in the mineral pools. Smoothing the wrinkles and carving new twinkles in the sauna steam. The cold showers douse the flames. A resurrection takes place in these pristine pools building character and charisma. Here in America, I proudly  continue to disrobe.

Random rambling