Kay Sarver Art
  • Home
  • Artwork
    • Ghosts in the Wilderness >
      • Wire Animals
    • Studio Junkies
    • Cross Pollination
    • The Unseen >
      • More Unseen
    • Wire & Metal
    • Archives >
      • Essence
      • Wire & Paint
      • Transforming Spirit
      • Legends & Traditions
      • Border Stories
      • Other Projects
  • About
    • News & Press
    • CV/Bio
  • Blog
  • Contact
  • Links

Letting Go

6/27/2014

0 Comments

 
Picture
The moist night air flew all around my body, strands of tangled hair gone wild in every direction, taking me back to a childhood memory when I traveled with my parents during many summers of un-airconditioned cars.  No one was able to hear anything but the wind and road, inducing a trance-like, submissive state, and the feeling that a few layers of road dirt clung to your body.

My energy was torn between just letting go and relaxing in the moment, or should I shout at the driver from the middle-back seat of his taxi-van
"please close the windows!"?  As we rushed down the freeway, I envisioned he was punishing us for having airline vouchers, and I tried to move the window button next to me, but it didn't work.  The people behind me must have been just as tired as I, simply unable to care.  

The driver had a permanent frown on his face, eyes never looking into yours, but off somewhere in the distance.  Standing there at the Dallas airport around midnight, he gruffly stated that he doesn't take vouchers in the same instant that he quickly grabbed them from our hands.  He spoke in a dull, angry tone, with an accent I could not place.

He dropped off the other passengers first, and then turned around to find my Super-8 Hotel, tucked away behind endless construction zones on the torn-up, feeder road. The driver claimed all of Dallas is like this. I suddenly felt even happier to live in Houston. The room was courtesy of the airline for canceling my flight and changing it a few times over, leaving me no choice but to stay in this forsaken place a few short hours till early the next morning.  

I don't know what came over me as I asked the driver if he could come back to get me at 5:30, and he sternly said that he would if I promise to be standing out front of the hotel exactly at that time. Perhaps I thought the wind on my face would be good the next morning… especially the messy hair part.  Of course, when that time came, he was nowhere to be found, and lucky for me a free airport shuttle happened to be picking up another 8 sleepy travelers at this same time.  I had a slight feeling of guilt as we pulled away… what if he shows up?

I hardly ever fly, but it seems my adventure is more common than I realized.  After speaking with a few friends, they all have had their recent and oddly similar stories of jet travel with cancelled flights, delays, technical problems and unplanned, overnight stays.  But it was the taxi drive that left an impression… the air I first resisted that seemed to want to cleanse me, help me to let go of control - to let go of stress, or perhaps to be reminded of the winds of change, and how much easier it is, even if a bit tangled and messy, to simply let go. 
Picture
0 Comments

    Kay Sarver Blog

    Archives

    December 2017
    September 2017
    May 2017
    March 2017
    December 2016
    October 2016
    April 2016
    February 2016
    December 2015
    October 2015
    July 2015
    May 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    January 2014
    November 2013
    September 2013
    July 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012
    April 2012
    March 2012
    February 2012
    December 2011
    November 2011
    October 2011
    September 2011
    August 2011

    Categories

    All
    Art Exhibit
    Birds
    Compassion
    Freeway Bridge
    Honda Fit
    Moving Art
    Nests
    Pigeons
    Precious Life
    Subcompact Car

    RSS Feed

✕