Da Goddess

Peter

The man in the feather headdress sat on the sidewalk in the middle of an upper middle class neighborhood. His denimed legs were crossed, bare feet tucked under his knees, and his eyes were closed. Even though it was 92º out, he wore a fleece pullover.

I approached cautiously.

"May I take your picture?" I asked.

"Oh, thank you for asking, but no. It would interfere with the energy. It could deplete it. I can't afford that," the man replied, opening his eyes. "That was very polite of you to ask. Thank you."

I studied him carefully as he spoke. Brilliant sky-blue eyes shone out from his tanned face.

His gaze met mine and he asked, "what's your name?"

I told him. He offered up his name. Peter. He was odd, but pleasant. Still, I felt that I was intruding and that's the last thing I wanted to do.

"Peter, I'm sorry to have interrupted you. It was nice meeting you. Have a wonderful afternoon."

A smile spread across his face. "It was an honor to meet you," he said. "Again, thank you for respecting my wishes and not taking my picture. I don't want to lose this energy I have. It's the feathers, you know. They're from Brazil."

I smiled and waved as I walked back to the car.

The headdress was beautiful. Aside from the strangeness of his appearance and choice of location, the headdress was the reason I'd stopped. Macaw feathers crested the top in an inverted V. Every color you could imagine was represented. The front band of the piece was covered in downy pinfeathers. From the sides dangled long tassels of verdant plumage. It was glorious and heartbreaking all at once. Glorious in the sheer beauty and craft of it all. Heartbreaking because I knew that only through the death of several birds* was it possible to create something so incredible.

Looking back at Peter, I wondered what brought him there. Why was he sitting there? What was the deal with the headdress? I wanted to ask but knew that the moment had passed. He sat there with his eyes closed again, still as any statue.

I climbed in the car and drove away, wishing that I had dared to sneak a photo, knowing full well that to do so would be like stealing. I didn't believe the picture would actually rob the man of his energy, but he did. Sometimes, you have to suspend your own beliefs to allow others to maintain theirs. He wasn't hurting himself or anyone else. It was best just to leave him be.

And I did.

* Like it or not, it's the truth. This isn't a PETA thing, just something I learned from people who used to make headdresses.

Posted by DaGoddess at October 8, 2004 01:26 AM