Photography and Story: The First Moment

I wanted to love you the first moment I saw you. I watched. What did I notice about you first? It was your face or maybe your eyes. No, I saw you from behind so it was your head and the shape of your hips. *blush* I later learned that your hair was cut short out of respect and honor of Abambo (father) who had recently passed away in South Africa. You later mentioned that your head is shaped like his. “He is from Malawi,” you said with a smile. I smiled. It was the shape of your head that caused me to remember a moment in time. At the time, I did not know that you were from the Bantu people, but the shape of your head reminded me of the Khoisan of the Kalahari (Bushmen). They are your ancestors, but I didn’t know. Where have I seen a head like that? Yes! I remember now! I saw your head once when I was flipping through a book about the indigenous people of the Earth. There was a photo of a beautiful Khoisan woman, who was confident and young. She was surrounded by the people of her tribe, and they were smiling. Her arms were stretched wide and her body was twisted towards the sun. Her head was turned over her shoulder and she was smiling as she admired her own steatopygic beauty that most of the Western world both desired and feared. That moment came back to me when I saw you. You reminded me of the woman in the picture. It was in the shape of your head and your lovely neck; it was your beautiful curves; it was in your black, sun-kissed skin, and beautiful face. I watched. I watched as you laughed and conversed with your friends and I knew at that moment that I would love you.

Photo Source:  SBess