MAN, THE WORLD IS REAL SMALL.
The following is a brief spree through some of my summer adventures. Bon appetit.

The rear patio of George Washington's Mount Vernon.

A fence at George Washington's Distillery and Grist Mill.

Fish.

Downtown Cheyenne, WY.

Waiting to clear a motorcycle accident on Angeles Crest Highway, Los Angeles, CA. The motorcyclist was airlifted by helicopter, but he was OK.

(The aptly-named) Joshua Tree.

Overlook from Joshua Tree from Palm Springs to the Salton Sea, with a mountain peak in the distance on the border with Mexico.

Tie Alley, San Luis Obispo, CA.

Me. The Elfin Forest, Los Osos. Morro Rock in the distance.

A squash display at Gopher Glen farm in San Luis.

Meh, it's me. Shores of Lake Washington near Seattle.

A ferry ride, somewhere near Orcas Island, en route from Anacortes to Victoria, BC.

Doin' his duty at the Victoria, BC airport.

View from near New Camaldoli Hermitage, Big Sur, CA.

The patio at Nepenthe, Big Sur. One of my favorites places.

Dancers at the Greek Festival at Fisherman's Wharf in Monterey, CA.

Me and the family steed.

Malibu Pier. 
A club in West Hollywood. Ugh.

A sign I keep seeing in town. I am in love, I wish them luck. OKAY, ACTUALLY, THIS IS FOR A MOVIE, SEVEN PSYCHOPATHS, WHICH I SAW LAST WEEK AND IS FANTASTIC AND MAKES THIS SIGN EVEN GREATER.

"Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate." --Thoreau

My ambivalence towards social media and personal information, a continual oscillation. But then: why have a blog if I am so pleased only a few people read it? I don't know, I don't know... an addiction to expression, I suspect. And I cannot deride that.

"As always occurred when he quarreled over principles in which he believed passionately, he would end up gasping furiously for air and blinking back bitter tears of conviction. There were many principles in which Clevinger believed passionately. He was crazy.
"Who's they?" he wanted to know. "Who, specifically, do you think is trying to murder you?"
"Every one of them," Yossarian told him.
"Every one of whom?"
"Every one of whom do you think?"
"I haven't any idea."
"Then how do you know they aren't?"
"Because …" Clevinger sputtered, and turned speechless with frustration."
--Catch-22, Joseph Heller*

*One of my absolute favorite books--it's been years, but I think it's time for another go-round, eh?




FALL IS COMING  





Ecstasy upon completing my pilgrimage to Third Man Records.
The Day's Selection.

Too damn cool.

Oh, hey.

In an unprecedented move, this song has insisted on being the only thing in my head for 40 hours.

So I have been singing it loudly with windows down all over town.



My goodness, darlings, if things don't just accelerate like it's nothing. To clarify, in pursuing the most relaxing, "re-grouping" summer ever, I stumbled into a rat's nest of activity and what has been the "best summer ever," (rough title, it's up for review). I have come to terms with a collection of things I need/have to do to do what I want to do in the way I wish to do it (i.e. properly), and I have learned a great deal about the universe. That's a broad stroke, I know, and this all sounds a bit dithering, but there are a lot of magical things in the world under our very noses. I've always known that, but the conspiracy of wonder goes far deeper than ever I realized. I am still discovering.

I wrote a list earlier of all I've done with the past three months, but I'm not sharing (ask me if you really care to know) because it's obnoxious. Of course, from my perspective it was all wonderful. In short, however, by the end of this week I will have been to fifteen states and two countries. Low on the international side, I know, but our states are bigger than many countries, so take that into account. There is no greater delight than the fiery new smell of adventure.

I have tons of pictures, as I mentioned in a previous post, that will trickle their way up here as time and data limits permit. There was the hot springs at Esalen (actually no photographic evidence of that, but the weekend, yes), lobbying for the good guys at City Hall, driving across the country, watching the Fourth of July fireworks from atop a mountain above the Rose Bowl and the entire city, finding my new house (an hundred year old rambling shack of a cabin no less!), getting a sound bath at the Integratron and hitting up Joshua Tree and Pappy & Harriet's for a Tequila Sunrise, lying on the sand of the central coast for a week, visiting the Elfin Forest in Los Osos, loitering around Orange County and the Sierras, each in their own way, further loitering in a series of dive bars and saloons all over and listening to all manner of music and reading a good deal of material, as well as working on my novel and fighting this dang guitar and mandolin I can never seem to master in the least. Oh dear, it's late, and I just cannot help myself. I reneged on my word and told you some of what I did this summer anyway. Damn. I did much, much more than that, and while I do have pictures of a lot of it, I think it is better to live life than document it, even for the probably two or three of you who may read this. It's the internet, not a diary, and life is too short.

Meh. It's time for sleep, the night is late, and my little fingers cry out for rest.


Enjoying the sands at my beloved Andrew Molera State Beach.




A collection of my favorite things from a hotel room in Maryland. Abstraction/wallpaper, coffee, Brautigan, and denim. The USA TODAY snuck in there, filthy devil.





“Any remote place may be the site of poetry -- imagined, remembered, or lived in -- but for almost every poet it is necessary to live in exile before returning home --an exile rich in conflict and confirmation.” 
--Donald Hall
Coming Soon: The Integratron.

Maryland Dock, Back to the Chesapeake. June 2012.

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