hanging out in the faux italian villas of the central coasts cultural center, the small niche coffee shops, alternative fashions and lovely little groovy areas where interesting objects de arte are on display, we wander through like old druids. man and son, cleaved from the same flesh, it's uncanny how alike we are and the strange karmic thread that weaves through us like some sexy double helix.
i dunno, i don't write often about my son, but he is amazing.
when i was 16 i left the UK and traveled, ending up in sydney australia. he left sydney and traveled and made a home in london, same street i was born. he worked hard to find his place in the fashion industry and now travels the world, having been to all the places i went to, even the north beach in zanzibar where the remote and infamous beach bar lay.
time and space have been kind to us, both immersed in the same books, films, politics, health regimes and family. he replaced me and i'm living the life i always wanted.
when it's time to say goodbye we hug and it's some hug, it's the best hug ever and there are a few tears. i drive home, passed empire bay, i smile all the way knowing i did bring something beautiful into the world. there's not much i am proud off but i'm proud of my son, he's intelligent, worldly, independent, kind and gentle yet strong and powerful, he's sensitive and empathetic, he's true to who he is. what more can a dad ask for?
yeah we make some plans for the next year, groovy plans, look out world.