whitewashed


Buddha was right. Happiness comes with a separation from material things. Whitewash your fears and dive right into that ice cold ocean that you have nightmares about. To thine own self be true. I hope your children will be famous one day and I pray that my children aren’t mopping floors.

It was the quintessential dream that everyone has of being able to fly. I WAS flying. Over buildings and trees and people down below didn’t see me. Sometimes I went through large fluffy clouds and came out the other end. My own snoring jarred me into a consciousness of “half-asleep – half-awake” This is probably one of the best states of mind that you can find yourself as a human being. It is very peaceful and carefree but it is hard to achieve. It just has to happen and rarely can you control it. As I am flying and watching my shadow down below on the sidewalks of my childhood I don’t want to wake up. I am free. I am happy. Now I am drifting back into the real world. I have to pretend to be asleep for another minute or two so that I could find a place to land.

Once when I was ten years and ten months old, my mother took me outside onto the front porch of our house on Whitman street. Under the black Summer sky she told me that I was the man of the house now. When you are the oldest son of ten kids I thought that I was supposed to just jump right into his shoes. After many years of stumbling, awkward walking and falling, I realized that his big black shoes were just way too big.

Published by George C. Hartman

Redesiging design, coloring outside the lines, rolling down hills, figuring out strange people, dreaming in black and white, photographing in black and white, juggling, body surfing, fantasy football, painting, design, digital art and photo manipulation, green oceans, blue oceans, museums, discovering small towns, biking, beach, relationships that tear my heart out, bad poetry, movie making and BLOGGING

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