Perspective 0n The Floating Life
- Swim in place
- Swim a lap around bowl
- Stare at diver with large head
- Try to get him to talk
- Make bigger bubbles
- Swim to surface
- Swim to surface and dream of jumping
- Stare at elongated creatures who drop food
- Wave tail, but not flirtatiously. I am not Koi.
- Practice floating on my back
- Play hide and seek in castle
- Swim in place
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Denizens of the Dock, Guest Blogger
Photo by Connie Ruben
"Happy Piscean gently soothing her psyche on her kitchen stool ...
Seagulls and mallards and cormorants paddling playfully by ...
Tireless tides teasing her home into magical amphibious dance ...
These breathtaking bay waters weave a wonderland!" - B.J.
Felines of the Dock
Vintage Photo by Dennis Bayer
Things I've Seen Float By
Writing On The Dock Of The Bay
The houseboat gently rocks but I am unaware of it until I notice the chandelier is swinging slightly. I look out the window and gauge our movement with the houseboat next door. And then I feel it. Sometimes I must step out of myself to observe my own shape, rhythm, and flow.
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"Dock Dogs"
photo by Lovise Mills
Writing on The Dock of The Bay
Treasures can be found at the Dock's free pile: pink flamingo cups, books by Hesse and Erdrich, 501's - just my size, a topiary giraffe, half a birthday cake, a barely opened bottle of gin. Some days I tell myself - just keep walking - but then I discover a framed history of Singing Toad Fish, snag a tiny photo album with b & w snapshots - no names - struck as I am by its sadness. I donate a jacket, it disappears, then reappears. I try not to take it personally! I wonder if dinner guests will recognize yellow soup bowls, or my new swordfish shirt. Sometimes I wonder who didn't finish their cake, who is on the wagon, who donated those Penis Puppetry books?! I have my ideas. By far my best dock find is the pole net, used to retrieve a plastic saber floating by, and rescue tongs that fell overboard during the heat of a bbq. Surely pole net would've saved the day when neighbors watched their key ring with yellow float fall in the water and drift away. As I gaze at a recently found artichoke platter and Mad Bum bobble head, I think - today I'll walk away from the pile. Easier said than done; especially when I spy a new purse with matching boots. Leather.
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Felines of SoFo
- Are they real?
-Yeah.
- What are they called?
- Cats. But they prefer Rulers of the Roost.
Writing On The Dock Of The Bay
What I needed was a pilgrimage to India, the Camino or maybe Burning Man.
What I did was borrow a houseboat 40 miles south and journey to now.
This morning I sit on the channel, tapping words, sipping coffee,
watching the tide flow out. My wife sleeps upstairs.
The cats are on the deck. They sniff salt air.
A gull floats by. Pierre saunters in and
sits on my lap. Begins to purr.
I type one handed now,
one finger. It's
all I need.
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Passing Through
Writing On The Dock Of The Bay
Returning on foot from pancakes at the Lighthouse, we find two people playing Heart & Soul on a waterfront piano, and an already beautiful morning turns magical. Laughter and music fill the air as we delight in the spontaneous performance of these players, who are out for a walk themselves. Later, I pay google a visit and discover: The Larry Clinton Orchestra, Heart and Soul, 1938. We have a neighbor on another dock by that name. I ask him, "Was that your dad?" Yes, he replies. "The story goes that my father visited Hoagy Carmichael’s office and was riffling through his files of unfinished songs when he found Heart & Soul. He was intrigued, but Carmichael protested, 'Oh, that? That’s just been lying around. You don’t want to record that!' Fortunately for him, and for piano students forever after, Pop went ahead."
And fortunate for us. Out for a walk, we stumbled across Heart & Soul, and found magic afloat in the air.
Vintage Photo by Dennis Bayer
Denizen of the Dock
"I like living on the water and rising and falling two times each day. It reminds me that I live in a natural world and gives me perspective. I like the community. When you live in a place where a leak can be disastrous, there's a different level of involvement between neighbors - you instinctively know you can count on them and they know they can count on you."
Writing On The Dock Of The Bay
On our first night afloat, I discovered that my shiny new Air Mac had no word processing program. How was I supposed to write? It occurred to me that I could just email myself. How funny, how strange, how totally me. Email myself? Turns out, it’s perfect. I like the spontaneity of email-‐ the flow, rhythm, and freedom - that riffy feeling of letting it fly, then hitting Send. Emails are best kept short. I like the containment, the structure, the limitations, even. Like moving from a farmhouse on acreage to a houseboat the size of a granny unit - with no garage or workshop or outbuildings. In thinking outside the box, my own little MacGuyver moment led me to discover how much I enjoy thinking - and writing - inside the box. Especially one that floats on the bay.