chicks, pants, showing it all, dancing


See the Shadows of Innocence and Sanity

a shadow of the day

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chicks, pants, showing it all, dancing
About Sin.

If the light hits his eyes just right, you can see his homeland in his eyes. It is almost unnatural to see his eyes reflecting back the coast of a country so far away, emerald green and lush. He does not look at people eye to eye much anymore because of the comments he has heard about his eyes. He keeps his eyes downcast or looking anywhere but at your face until you look away. He does not understand it, but he has heard so much, he has to look for himself, to see if he can see what they see in his eyes.

To him, his eyes are normal. When he looks in the mirror, he sees hazel eyes, more green than gold. He sees a regular boy with nothing special about him but his love of the sea. And even that love is neither nothing more, nor anything less than his countrymen. His uncle used to sail, and his eyes had that same look about them, a yearning for the sea that held for his whole life. There is nothing there about green hills or anything like that to make him different than anyone else he has known in his life. His eyes are just eyes.

But he is told that when the light is shining at the right angle, when he is looking up at the sky for a long time before he looks at you, his eyes are anything but normal. In his eyes, after he has been dreaming of home, you can see the sea and the rocky coastline of Ireland. You can see what he misses and the green isle that he calls home calls to you through his eyes. His eyes are a window to the green soul of him.

Sin was told once in high school that his heart is green. He knew Patsy did not mean it in any way that was derogatory, but it struck him as odd then, and even now. Pats smiled and said it again. “Your heart is green, Sin. It is green like everything you love. Like your home, is it not?” He shrugged, not able to make any sense of the comment. It is like telling him his eyes are not normal. It does not follow any line of thought he has ever had. The only time he has ever agreed with such an outrageous statement was when his mother told him that his veins were full of salt water and he was born for the sea. He told Pats so, and she smiled at him and elbowed him good naturedly.

“That is what I mean, Sin. Your veins are full of salt water, and your eyes are full of home. It is all that you are and all you have been, or am I wrong to think so?” It is a reasonable explanation, he assumes, and does not argue the point anymore. It is reasonable in the same way that fairies and leprechauns and Santa Claus are reasonable, because there is no other explanation that does not depress you.


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