Oh Bali, Bali, my soul has found an earth home! From the moment I arrived, I knew this was what i had been searching for. I could feel it in my bones, in the anticipatory squeezing inside of my heart, and the giddy grin that wouldn’t leave my face. There is just so much to witness here … just being here makes me feel fed as if I have eaten a feast through my eyes and my senses.
When I spend long stints of time wandering the world by myself, I often find myself reflecting on the nature of human attraction.
Especially as a woman who enjoys spending time alone, getting hit on becomes a regular experience. I am under no illusion that it’s because I am special by any means. It just happens. Especially if you are even a little bit warm and friendly. The circumstance does, however, make me wonder about this human dance of attraction, and how I am wired differently than this… (and i know i am not alone)
DRIVING. So you think you get your license when you’re 16, and from there it’s all going to be an automatic piece of cake, right?
Not so fast. Here comes a foreign country with backwards roads and backwards rules, and suddenly you’re like a newborn again (for at least a quick minute).
The neatest thing about traveling alone in a foreign country is that it forces you to grow some serious life hacking skills. It forces you to expand. It forces you to handle your shit and deal with circumstances that are inevitably out of your comfort zone.
This morning I woke up with a density of sadness cloaking me along with the haze of a rainy day.
I lay there, missing the old me … wondering where the days had gone, where I felt like an unstoppable energizer bunny of enthusiasm. Where optimism was effortless and had a life of its own.
it’s amazing being in a Buddhist country, where the sound of Ohm seems to permeate the air, coming out of the establishments I pass as I walk down the street.
I can feel my inner (subliminal, accidental) american attitudes become so glaringly blatant … and then just melt away…
It is a surrender of the density of intensity and anxiety that cakes us like a silent shroud in the states, no matter how much effort we put in to cope with it
My sweet violin, Muddy, has come home to me at last after a long month at the luthier’s! I hadn’t been a day without her since I fell in love with her warm breathy tone 21 years ago!! She fell a month ago and her 140 year old wood shattered at the tailpiece, along with multiple other damages that could potentially have destroyed her.
My Muse has always come somewhere between midnight and 1 AM. When at last the house is silent, and there are no distractions. When at last my fingers fly, and my heart gushes, and my spirit flies with wings into the great wide unknown of potential creation. She is the ultimate mother. She births sonic sculptures. She births word clusters and constellations of imagery.
There is just nothing like the woody, pulpy feel of turning pages beneath fingertips… the enveloping arc of character development … the all-consuming power of Story. In a portable package you can lug around. This is my favorite addiction.
Petting animals creates the sensation of a big huge snuggly cocoon enveloping your whole being like a snugly fitted glove.
There’s no such thing as too much affection with those you love! More love!
When I ask someone I respect for constructive criticism on a craft that they have mastered, that I am trying to learn – I absolutely love receiving the feedback! I’m not shy. I’m not proud. I don’t want to be right, I want to grow and absorb the condensed nugget of their wisdom