My Boss; Creation

My boss plays sports like a man, relishing challenges like one-of-the-boy and drives forward with equally macho daring. She holds nothing back as far as sports in concerned -- it's "try to win" or not at all. Out in the field, she's into floorball, running, cycling and adventure racing. In the office, she looks very much like a lioness perched on her sandstone boulder in the Serengeti grasslands. However, her face peels into a girlish smile everytime I ask her questions about the existing system and protocols at work.

She's been patient with me over the last few days at work. I know that she can be demanding, or quickly boiling with assertiveness when needed. She gets things done. She also surprised me at lunch today.

Just as she was starting on her plate of rice and vegetable, each neatly piled on one section of the plate, she received a phonecall. Pausing her meal to answer the call, she had the phone in her left hand and her head (which reminds me of a mop) cocked towards her electronic servant's demands. Her right hand was gingerly picking for granules of mince meat, shredded carrot and peas. For that 10 minutes she was on the phone, she looked like an total recall of how she might have been as a child, fussing over her meals and refusing to eat her greens. She must have read my inquisitive stare, because after hanging up the phone, a child-like whisper-of-a-giggle betrayed her.

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I am amazed by the fluke that are my hands, and the lottery gold-fingers of my first creations. My first customised shirt was somewhat successful. Heck, with stencils and spray paint, it can't really go wrong. Perhaps a next step would be the addition of colours and materials.

I can't tell what spurred me to experiment with fashion -- was it the inspiration of a fellow artist, or the pressure of poorly managed finances, or simply the desperation of surprising the mellowed? Have you wondered what life would have been like for me without your presence, your careless playfulness, your reckless energy and your lady-like tantrums? It would have been simply functional, all but inspirational. You were the inspiration for many of my works. You still are. I can only hope that I have been a ripple in the vastness of your fluid life, in return for all that evolution you have started within me.

In my cubicle, I stare often at your ring on my finger, and appreciate soundlessly the familiar foreigness it provides. So much like us, this ring -- its shape, its make, its material... Before long, I am dozing in a daydream of memories or fantasy. What will I dream of today? Perhaps of you again.

I've really gotta get some rest... I'm tired in so many ways. Tired after trying to be strong for so long. Tired because you are tired. Tired because I can only do so much. Tired because tomorrow will come, and sometimes I don't look forward to it.

"Sleep is a good respite," you once said...

Sleep... with whom does peace rest tonight? With you and those who need it more, I pray. I can wait.



JKLM