Magic around each bend.
That's how we do on the coast.
Howard Creek, CA
Words of Wisdom from the Geeg:
"Acorns! So much earthly plethora falling off Nature, yet men wage wars over thinking they do not have enough of this and that. I do mean men --at war-- not women. One common denominator in the Syrian civil war is: armed men. On both sides, all sides, men. Reporters should point out it is not the Syrian people at war, but Syrian men (and men from other countries pouring in as proxy mercenaries).
On a lighter note, I think acorn flour was a Native American staple. Must take a lot of grinding.
We should put men to work cooking and grinding acorns, to keep them busy and productive and out of trouble. Oops! That's what men say about women....and children."
Background:
Step 1: I sent a pic msg of acorns to the all-knowing one known as Gigi.
Step 2: Her response is found above.
Step 3: Said response was quite apropos to today's date: 9/11 (in case every single news source hasn't reminded you 25 times yet)
Step 4: Commence acorn diorama of flaming twin towers. Très poétique.
Step 5: Stop it already. War is sooo last season. Get hip to it, Patriarchy. You had your time, now just step off the runway and stop embarrassing yourself. The new age of Peace is here. She's sexy, she's shiny, she works well with others, she's what the audiences want and she's ready to chassè your tired ass out the spotlight. Exit stage left, merci.
The Frenchman avec son breakfast cigarette.
c'est bon.
A place as stunning to the eyes as it is to the tongue.
Inglenook, CA
Jack(ed) being three surfer dudes: The Frenchman, The Dreamer, and The Casanova.
Branscomb, CA.
Some people say Burning Man is hard to describe. "The Feed" is hard to describe.
Though the themes are similar: sharing, providing, building, long dusty roads in the Wild West, camping, celebration, all walks of life, and fire, there is an element of old tradition at The Feed that distinguishes it from other gatherings. An attempt if I may -- it is akin to taking a barn raising, a Lost Coast surf trip, a hometown potluck reunion, lumberjacks in tie dye and flannel, and late night jam sessions in the redwoods then folding them in to one another until the result is a perfectly smooth chocolate mousse of warm hearts, warm hands, warm souls, and full bellies.
Usal, CA
...a plane door opens.
Tahoe to Ukiah, California in 1 hour flat.
Quite possibly the best hitched ride thus far.
Last bike ride along the Truckee until next time.
Hometown brewed booch.
Alone time as the anonymous traveler in a small cafe.
Reading about Jesus the man and drawing Peach the woman.
Moves mañana.
Sometimes I wonder if I wear a sign around my neck, which reads: "Lob curveballs here".
I am curvy.
In form and in path.
That may explain it.
Like attracts like, after all.
Never a dull moment.
Solitude, fresh air, sunshine, and clean water - always the best reset button.
This morning at 9am my flight to Burlington, Vermont took off from San Francisco International.
I was sitting in bed, 200 miles away. Gazing across to the Sierra's with slim cat eyes.
Not in seat 45E, gazing down on the Sierra's from a bird's eye.
Factors present themselves and shifts shift.
Flow is the best we can do.
Surrender.
Again.
back on the homestead bounty abounds.
Nothing like a good 'ol fashioned foot race on your Sunday afternoon BBQ.
Lahontan, CA.
North Lake,
Tahoe, CA.
Fish.
Truckee River,
Tahoe, CA.
Hiking peaks and this magician so dramatically revealed himself.
Squaw Valley.
Again.
Brought to you by the privileged imperial elite.
Free of charge (certain taxes and fees may apply).
(Side effects may include: nausea, depression, loss of identity, guilt, sorrow, frustration, anger, death, and genocide)
I take in the scenery.
Again.
Brought to you by privilege.
Never free of charge.
(Side effects may include: nausea, depression, loss of identity, guilt, sorrow, frustration, anger, death, and genocide)
Tahoe.
Sunshine and smoke.
Indian food with an Indian man.
