symphony of the deep sea

kandido is on the deck of the ferry that brings him back from okinawa to osaka.



the wind tickles his skin. the sun draws shiny spots on the blue sea.



and the vibration under the feet



and the rays coming out of the clouds



and the music on the ipod is playing an air of bach



and the taste of iron in the mouth.



and the smell of salt on the air



and every hair of his body shaking



and the wind playing with the water drawaing million of one second raibows



and some islands far away like a paper painting



and the pulsating noise of the engines



and his vein pulsating as well



some black clouds are running fast over his head, on a carpet of white distant clouds. dancing at the same rhythm of the music.



a white pencil keep on drawing in the sky magical figures of dragons, monsters in the eternal fight of the transformation.







kandido looks at the waves that the ferry draws, they keep on forming and destroying some roundish white foam shapes. and his mind flies to his father dead on a tropical sea. he faded away. this life is make of born and die. forming and reforming same shapes. he feels gratitude for that silent man that made of him a more free man.



kandido starts jumping and dancing. some punk tunes are playing



the sun is shining reddish now. and the wind more intense.



he spins crazily, open arm and playing with the wind.



kandido keeps on dancing, playing, flying for 3 hours till the sunset.



alone on the deck



the other passengers are locked in their cabins reading manga.



the black sea can be also scary to see sometimes...