The meaning of Ho: the center of the donut, a male prostitute as referred to by thugs, the whole of something as referred to by thugs. The marry sound made by a Christmas saint. When rowing large boats European sailors often use the ho after the heave, heave =pull and Ho=push.
When I think of Ho I think of wild originality. I think of a hippie dude so in love with the spirit he has lost all sense of morality as we know it. What is morality anyway?
If it’s that dark cloud that looms over the human race thundering with high expectations, dictatorially manipulating so many to psychologically beating themselves senseless while stretching impossibly thin trying to reach for a sense of sanctity, then surely Ho is morality’s arrow to the heart.
He comes from another world, a world I am ever so often refreshed to be part of.
We have built many fond memories Ho and I.
I wonder if he knows that I’v always longed to stay his little girl; my hair whipping wildly in the wind while he picks up speed to see just how brave his offspring will prove to be. I would hardly ever surrender, and the cool thing about Ho is he knew I could take it.
I got to travel with him again a few years back. We were road warriors again, only much had grown between us. My mind always festering, sick with thought; my life, my future, my relationship. I wanted us to be close again but I was not a little girl anymore. I was thrust into adulthood at 17, the responsibility and deadlines that came with it along with the ever pressing fear of failure.
Ho always has a stash of very old tapes in his car. I used to have a lot of fun going through them. Tapes are so cool. They make you feel retro.
He saw me thumbing a rather hammered looking one, I was sure it wouldn’t work but Ho insist I put it on.
I was a little bothered as we had past that pleasant beginning of the trip and and were now more in the agitating “are we there yet” stage. I didn’t want to hear mumbled sounds eking out of this ancient tap deck but I wanted him to believe I was there with him.
He saw me thumbing a rather hammered looking one, I was sure it wouldn’t work but Ho insist I put it on.
I was a little bothered as we had past that pleasant beginning of the trip and and were now more in the agitating “are we there yet” stage. I didn’t want to hear mumbled sounds eking out of this ancient tap deck but I wanted him to believe I was there with him.
Its funny but I can almost never put the tapes in myself, he always gets such a kick of watching me flip the tape over and over like a cave man trying to make it fit. After a few laughs I managed.
Do you remember how we used to always go on these trips together from Mexico to Texas”? I tried to recal lost memories.
A half tuned guitar began to play, I was sure it was another one of Aaron’s tapes but then it could be Ho himself…Ho and? A three year old girl. Me, little Ol fireball herself. Who would have guessed this child would grow up to fixate her life around music and as usual it would never go much further then a sloppy distorted demo, and Ho would always remain my biggest fan.
He smiled, I could tell he was remembering what I couldn’t. Could it be that even though I’ve forgotten most of my childhood I some how managed to imprint Ivan Ho’s love for art, sound and life some where deep in my subconscious? I’ve nevr been able to shake the desire to create yet neither of my parents were artistic in anyway. My mother gave me my heart and soul, my Godfather gave me strength, drive and I’m sure a great deal of my humor is credited to him.
All the way till my 7th year seems to be just a big blur. My mom never really spoke to me about my biological father, but I do remember her sharing with me a time when Ivan would sell his paintings at the beach to support us. Imagine that. He was quite good” she said.
Ho is the missing link to so much of my life. When I’m with him I feel a part of me being fulfilled. I do remember he and I were very close, we were always partners in crime.
I began to relax. Some how I knew this trip was going to be better for me then I thought.
It was a six day adventure, Ho is probably the only adult I know who will be totally down with inviting a soul searching, rainbow kid to come and join us for the next couple of days. I wanted to take him home like a lost puppy. I think the guy was more scared of us then we were of him. To Ivan Ho every one is a potential disciple. There is no end to the possibilities.
Do you remember how we used to always go on these trips together from Mexico to Texas”? I tried to recal lost memories.
A half tuned guitar began to play, I was sure it was another one of Aaron’s tapes but then it could be Ho himself…Ho and? A three year old girl. Me, little Ol fireball herself. Who would have guessed this child would grow up to fixate her life around music and as usual it would never go much further then a sloppy distorted demo, and Ho would always remain my biggest fan.
He smiled, I could tell he was remembering what I couldn’t. Could it be that even though I’ve forgotten most of my childhood I some how managed to imprint Ivan Ho’s love for art, sound and life some where deep in my subconscious? I’ve nevr been able to shake the desire to create yet neither of my parents were artistic in anyway. My mother gave me my heart and soul, my Godfather gave me strength, drive and I’m sure a great deal of my humor is credited to him.
All the way till my 7th year seems to be just a big blur. My mom never really spoke to me about my biological father, but I do remember her sharing with me a time when Ivan would sell his paintings at the beach to support us. Imagine that. He was quite good” she said.
Ho is the missing link to so much of my life. When I’m with him I feel a part of me being fulfilled. I do remember he and I were very close, we were always partners in crime.
I began to relax. Some how I knew this trip was going to be better for me then I thought.
It was a six day adventure, Ho is probably the only adult I know who will be totally down with inviting a soul searching, rainbow kid to come and join us for the next couple of days. I wanted to take him home like a lost puppy. I think the guy was more scared of us then we were of him. To Ivan Ho every one is a potential disciple. There is no end to the possibilities.
One thing I get from a lot of people once they’ve sized me up is the assessment that I have the ability to become all things to all men. I can mingle in the heights of American first class society yet not be fazed or at all uneasy when asked to spend a few days without electricity or indoor plumbing among wild bohemian stereotypes.
No I’m not faking anything, I feel at peace in both worlds. I’v been blessed with a very colorful family and heritage. But if some one was to ever ask me which lifestyle I would chose if I must be content with only one, I think I would take a month to think about it. (months later)
They say many woman settle with men who have similar characteristics to their Father’s. The choice of marriage has much to do with the choice of lifestyle, this my conclusion would rest thoroughly on my choice of male, though this becomes confusing as I’ve had two fathers, two very opposing personalities as well.
There is only one thing I think these two held in common. They were both traveling men, one; the prowling hunter, restless and hungry for adventure in all its forms, the other; a wild naked Indian who seeks freedom of systematic bondage and “morality”as we believe it to be.
Even my mother is a free spirit, Esmeralda is her personal spirit helper. My mother reflects her ability to see into the heart with the eyes of love, she is adamant and backward to the established method.
About all I can establish is my soul mate is the great spirit Himself who moves and shifts endlessly. Who’s ways are not our ways and who defies the confines of our limited and poor understanding of love in unconventional ways, like giving us more then one father forever enabling us to seek more then just one objective, more then a simple solution, more then a simple life.
This is why I chose the Family, because its in my biological make-up.
Ho and I have found each other on and off again. He was a pillar in getting me through one of the roughest times of my life. He didn’t feel sorry for me, he didn’t try and stop me from making mistakes. He’ll let me stick my head way, far out the window. Only he knows I’ll pull it back in once all the tears have been swept clean from my face. Then he and I will wake up at the crack of dawn, I'll put on one of his old wet suit about 3 sizes too big, have hot coffee and donuts, then we’ll take down our surf boards; he’ll teach me a technique to carry them as they seem impossible to carry. Then, once hes given me a brief coarse on stopping the board before smashing into the rocks we’ll dive out into the deep where he gives me my first surfing lesion. All he’ll say is “watch me”.
I love you Ivan Ho. Thank you for your many contributions to my life.
The 22 of May is your birthday, another day for you to defy the laws of physics by some how becoming younger and more defiant then ever!
No I’m not faking anything, I feel at peace in both worlds. I’v been blessed with a very colorful family and heritage. But if some one was to ever ask me which lifestyle I would chose if I must be content with only one, I think I would take a month to think about it. (months later)
They say many woman settle with men who have similar characteristics to their Father’s. The choice of marriage has much to do with the choice of lifestyle, this my conclusion would rest thoroughly on my choice of male, though this becomes confusing as I’ve had two fathers, two very opposing personalities as well.
There is only one thing I think these two held in common. They were both traveling men, one; the prowling hunter, restless and hungry for adventure in all its forms, the other; a wild naked Indian who seeks freedom of systematic bondage and “morality”as we believe it to be.
Even my mother is a free spirit, Esmeralda is her personal spirit helper. My mother reflects her ability to see into the heart with the eyes of love, she is adamant and backward to the established method.
About all I can establish is my soul mate is the great spirit Himself who moves and shifts endlessly. Who’s ways are not our ways and who defies the confines of our limited and poor understanding of love in unconventional ways, like giving us more then one father forever enabling us to seek more then just one objective, more then a simple solution, more then a simple life.
This is why I chose the Family, because its in my biological make-up.
Ho and I have found each other on and off again. He was a pillar in getting me through one of the roughest times of my life. He didn’t feel sorry for me, he didn’t try and stop me from making mistakes. He’ll let me stick my head way, far out the window. Only he knows I’ll pull it back in once all the tears have been swept clean from my face. Then he and I will wake up at the crack of dawn, I'll put on one of his old wet suit about 3 sizes too big, have hot coffee and donuts, then we’ll take down our surf boards; he’ll teach me a technique to carry them as they seem impossible to carry. Then, once hes given me a brief coarse on stopping the board before smashing into the rocks we’ll dive out into the deep where he gives me my first surfing lesion. All he’ll say is “watch me”.
I love you Ivan Ho. Thank you for your many contributions to my life.
The 22 of May is your birthday, another day for you to defy the laws of physics by some how becoming younger and more defiant then ever!
2 comentários:
I had to break out loud laffing two or more times in this quite computer room at coffee-topia near the beach where we surfed. There was only one nice fellow present,
but, he knew as I said, "It's my daughters blog, she is kind a funny." LOL
Not to mention your excellent writing adapts. Ok, maybe you need the flatters. :D
But I do Really Appreciate your time & effort here. Very Fun & Enlightening.
ALl your Best Dreams will come true
my Sweet Marie!
C ya on the Wings of the Wind & Heavenly Sea as we Slice of the serpents heads!
Happy belated Birthday Ivan Hoe, i mean war horse, oh, i mean serpantslyer, no, i mean..umm, oh yeah...Ivan Bones....You crazy Prphet ... a long life to you...
out peace
Postar um comentário