the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
the weight of my life on my shoulders ~ August 9, 2002 - 11:36 p.m. a brief note before I collapse... I have been on the move all day long, and it has been a long day... woke up at 4:30 a.m., after less than two hours of crash time on the couch of poet friend sean in seattle... sean walked with me down to catch the bus to the bus to sea-tac, the seattle airport... got there in plenty of time for my flight to LA, where I caught the flight to san jose-- you always fly weird when you fly priceline. down to the bottom of the country so that I could fly back up. and then, san jose, and all the bad memories as I caught glimpses of areas I recognize from last winter's nightmare. shuttle to the caltrain station, caltrain to the bus depot, bus to santa cruz. other bus to watsonville. yet another bus to get me as close to mount madonna as public trans allows. and almost immediately, ramnath and gyaneshwar drove past me, waving, turned around to pick me up and give me a ride up the mountain. and home. which isn't really my home anymore. I have no room here, anymore, no space to call my own. skye's moved into my gorgeous little corner room with the great big windows. but all the log house women are up in berkeley this weekend, so I have the house to myself, crashing on the living room couch. I'm only here for two days, and most of that is errands and organizing and running around. then on sunday, up to boulder creek for firedance... and wherever the road leads me after that. my life in a pack on my back, my feet on the path, toes dug firmly in the earth. I'd thought to settle out for a while, when I came here originally. and I still know that I'll be back here sooner or later. but right now it's summertime and life is full and there are roads calling my heart to follow. so much more to tell you, about that and about everything else. but right now it's all about collapse. a warm couch. a momentary visit to a place called home.
(((rings))) |