Josh and I were walking the white sandy beach in front of our hotel in Sarasota, Florida when we saw a hut structure that Josh immediately dubbed ‘Gilligan’s Island. In a flash, gormless Gilligan was in my mind and soon the Professor and Mary Ann made an appearance too, thanks to Josh’s singing, and then the whole gummy crew.
Sometime later I felt like Gidget, perched up on a stool at the hut- the Lido Beach Tiki Bar was its official name – jiving to the beat of a one-man band while sipping a non-alcoholic Pina Colada and watching the sun slipover the sea. Thanks to the Hawaiian beat, Hawaiian shirts, surfers catching last waves, the giddy beat and heat and the Hawaii Five-O images, I felt happy and free. Even my hair had gone all curly. The world at that point felt wonderfully swervy.
It was Thanksgiving and it was something of a miracle that we’d made the escape from New York to a place that held only good childhood memories for Josh. I was entranced from the moment we arrived. We’d slipped into a gentler pace, Southern manners, steaming paella dishes, Key Lime Pie, flaming pink buildings, jumping blues bars and girls hula hooping on the beach.
On our first beach walk we chanced upon a husband and wife music team. Bill played ukelele while Jade handed her electric ukelele to Josh and set up a tripod to try to film dolphins in the Gulf of Mexico, all the while singing like an angel. I felt tears spring up – work had been so hard and here they were reminding us that life could be magical. Josh kept playing and was quickly inducted as a third member of “the band” while I gave Jade advice on starting her own Creativity and Power seminars as well as writing a book.
Josh’s friend, Pam, from recent college days played tour guide with her wheelchair-bound mother during our time in Sarasota. We experienced so much beauty through their eyes, especially at the sublime Ringling Art Museum with the ground alone justifying a day long visit. Aside from the art museum, the estate contains the Ringling’s mansion, Ca’d’Zan, Mable Ringling’s Rose Garden (yes, her name is spelt ‘Mable’), the Ringling Museum of the American Circus and the AsoloT heater. Ca’d’Zan, which is Venetian for the ‘House of John’ is the original waterfront family residence overlooking Sarasota Bay and designed in Venetian gothic style. In fact it felt like we were alternatively in Italy, with the architecture, and in Broome, Australia with the presence of the Banyan trees. The Rose Garden was divine and I found my favourite rose, Bella Donna, which I kept returning to and so when I came home tonight Josh had found me similar colored roses to look at and inhale as I type this letter.
Each day we walked the beach. Morning, evening, serenity, joy. We watched children create elaborate sandcastles, a man releasing a small fish and throwing it back into the sea while a pelican watched glumly nearby. ‘Life is Good’ smiled another man to us as he laid back in his home spun, home-made chair, looking out to the horizon in his oversized glasses, book resting on a contented stomach.One day we walked from the beach through the bush and found ourselves in front of a gorgeous circle sculpture by the side of the road. It was created by the artist, Bob Beardsworth. Josh remembered it ‘clanging beautifully, with so many tones when tapped, its wonderful patina in the light’. On the base of the sculpture was a trilogy of quotes, each a reflection on life.
“The circle is often
used to represent life
life is rearranged by
the processes of living”“Future hopes and
promises are disrupted
by physical and
emotional trial”“Reconciliation and
healing common to all people
complete the circle”
We passed a man fishing off a bridge who showed us the hundreds of silver fish spinning through the water, himself a kind of magician in the wisdom ways of knowing. ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ he said to us softly as we thanked him and walked to our own simple Thanksgiving lunch.
On our last morning we headed down to the beach one last time. Walking through the white picket gate, there before us we beheld an enormous pumpkin with “1%” written on it in thick black texta. Behind it was a teeny-weeny pumpkin with’99%’ marked across it in the same black texta. The Occupy movement had come to Lido Beach! There was something about these sturdy, orange, real-life pumpkins sitting there, with the shimmering sea as a backdrop. The incongruity of it all made me laugh and gave me cause for pause. They were whimsical with a serious message. Creativity, artistry and humor broke through while holding power to account. We were the 99%. The tide was turning. I felt energized — the magic was back — I ran into the sea.
Jane Sloane