Feeling a little blue over our solstian milestone, my son’s promotion to 6th grade, leaving elementary school behind. There is pride and excitement mixed in, too.
He is a rising middle schooler, rising best when left to his own devices and pace, like a perfect, delicate beignet, with a crust strong enough to support heavy drifts of powdered sugar. The slow rise builds a powerful, complex structure with plenty of open spaces.
We are born with lots of beautiful, wide-open space in our minds, vast as the deep blue sea, as open to versatility as the twelve-bar blues. Ready for embellishment, like the stretch between two slices of bread.
Where would I like this spot to be? Across the street from me! Morning, noon and night, the Bayou Bakery would lure us in, me and my shadow, who is stretching further and further from me.
How we got from then till now, I can’t recall. Most of this stretch has been at either an excruciating crawl or lightening speed. Long periods of incremental change punctuated by moments of sheer exuberance. Not a bit like a twelve bar blues.