I have experienced so many profound things… and, I never wrote that story. I never became that professional photographer. I never found those words. I never became the hero that I wanted to be. I couldn’t return to the townships in South Africa and say… Let’s play some music together again. I want to hit that drum with you again – join hands, transcend worlds…
So, here’s something from 2001.
Dear Woman, when the National Press Club notified me that I won the photo contest with your picture, I felt embarrassed. It took me a long time to find that smile you wore – to find it inside myself.
I could not afford to fly and see your image on the wall in the gallery. At the time, I could barely pay my rent. I wanted to see you again, not fly to Washington D.C. I needed the sunset and the sunrise to enter into my heart, just like it did when I could feel the whole jungle wake, as the funny monkeys stirred.
Old times, they do tug at my heart. People who I’ve met and exchanged with in depth of spirit, people on the journey. They moved on; we all just moved on.
Aloha. Aloha. I love you. You have been in my heart all this time….
Your smile… is like no other I’ve ever seen. Here at Angkor Wat. Here at the temple where I continue to worship. The temple of shadows where smiles are forged from the hearts of connection. Where we don’t need things, or even hands, to smile.
Dear Children, I want to see you free… free and free….