Friday, November 9, 2012

Sometimes as a kid I went to my mom’s water aerobics class. Goggles on I would dive under and listen to the instructor’s garbled voice bark directions. I waved my arms like a conductor pretending to command the action. Their fleshy folds billowed like sails, pocketing the water and resisting their movement. It looked slower than slow motion. Slower than walking even.

Photo credit: David Parody

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