The inevitable shock before the adjustment?
Tracing the lineage of rock.
Forest fires and flash floods, the electric zigzag from a viewpoint overlooking the red sunrise.
Whole body vibrations on the high waters, washed away.
Tracing lineages of flow, carving out the curves.
Zen lunacy and the call for figure ground reversal - a home from home!
The creek flows rapidly, leaving me out of seam, out of hook.
No longer tracing lines, meandering upwards
Drawing on old axioms. Accents and boxes - don’t close the lid on yourself.
Remembering names and painting a picture
Spontaneity and unashamed honesty to be found in his mystic guidance
He’s a performer - I could have guessed that!
Pride in full swing - conversations on Candomblé
Reading the cards over the balcony with the stars in chains. Two chains to be precise.
Cherish them, I will. Give them away, I will. Share them, I will.
Oracle to the living and silence. Leave the dead some room to dance.
Those are words stolen from an idol.
Idolising an idealistic hobo? Doesn’t give me the same thrill.
Art intertwined with nature in this botanical garden.
The flat irons, continuing to trace creases.
Treasure chest of everlasting trees
Deep hanging out taken to a new level.
