but it really wasn’t.
I took that cross country trip by myself and it was brilliant.
I quit my job and started another one.
Got a part time job and after a year quit that one, too.
Moved into a new apartment and spent all my money on dolls.
Embarking on a 3 year life process to become a druid.
I want to pour my energy into creating art: written, image, flowing.
A poem I shared around the campfire this past magical weekend in Dreamland:
Present, wide eyes, imprinting only in the organic circuitry
Feeding, nourishing synapses. They them there that becomes irrelevant
a clean divide, filling and emptying – no vessel for these vessels
cracked and flawed, lining these fractures with magic
a finger stemmed the flow of light – out from your own way
the hermit chooses his medium and the junctures illuminate
critical mass floods forward in a blinding moment of creation
an instrument to direct the degrees between true and magnetic
the story of being caught, the slip away to release.
Revolving limbal rings, in deepening blues.
Captivate and inspire, a humble offering of elevens.