24/20 in the woods

i'm not sure why it took me so long to post this, but here it finally is - some short thoughts about the gathering. pictures to come. it is obvious they are here, in this specific place, for me. and i, at this specific time, for them. it has never been so clear. it is also clear that these static ideas like place & time don't exist as i thought. this is the magic of gatherings. this is the magic of us gathering. this magic i speak of is not black or an illusion or a trick. it's the way the universe works. i only call it magic because of its abilities to affect me & others. it's not always obvious as to what i am supposed to be picking up. i've created quite a web of a filter over the years mostly because of the media and the city. with constant inputs passings and movement i begin to think its all just one big giant mess. but i know better. i've experienced things only few would nod their heads to. there are people who have completely turned my life around in sudden quick passings. ( be it the someone i met at a gas station off of 96 or in the bathroom at a show) there are those who've have created so much love and compassion in me & that is only the tip of the snowman's carrot nose. here i have the 24/20 vision that allows me to see between the lines and down the alley way. no, i didn't type that wrong, i have beyond the normal perfect vision. and i can feel this happening before i arrive, when my heart strings start pulling. & when that happens i know amazing experiences are about to happen & they help me remember who i am and what i am about. -- here is where i take refuge, here is where i go for my guidance when i feel lost. i left late for the alleghenys and it got dark quick. i knew there was no way i'd be able to pack it all in, especially if parking was miles away from the actual site. so i imagined someone there for me, that would just be there in the pitch black night to accompany my lonely tired body so i could relax and smoke until my eyes closed. (i had other unconscious thoughts and questions but they were in my heart beating waves out to whoever was to find them.) when i arrived there was broccoli, the tripping 25 year old spectator of the stars. she was kind and humorous and talkative, questioning everything but her motivations as to why. she was a nice companion, someone i felt safe with, at ease with. and i laughed more than i thought my body would allow me to. we spoke like i haven't been able to speak in a while - basically because there was a lack of other(s) to understand it. anyone outside of the wherever we were would have thought we were crazy, but we never misunderstood each other, i kept finishing sentences, she kept going "wow, you get it." of course. i stayed awake as long as i could then we split to our separate cars and i slept like a baby in my back seat. after the day began and the heat forced me out of my car, i got up and sat in a meadow of grasses and sun. from there until i left i met my friends over again. i met my friends early that first morning, who i remained with the remainder of the time. they showed me their dreams and the 'coincidences' that brought them there. ---they look into my eyes here. i hold their stares. we are not afraid what we will find. we already know each other. the gathering had such a nice homely vibe. it was small & intimate with enough space for alone time, enough silence for meditation. a couple of dread headed kids made a pirate ship out of fallen tree & held captive anyone who did not pay the fee going through 'their' path. they raised chaotic splendor while their parents prepared dinner. someone chose to come by horse, & he set her lose to wander around from camp to camp slowly, she always returned to him. one of my favorite activities at the gatherings are the dinner circles, even if i don't eat i participate. we take each other's hands and ohm. for as long as it goes. there's nothing like it. i've been seeing magic everywhere now. in dreams and waking and in the eyes of strangers. i pray for its continuance and my ability to recognize it.

allegheny

i'm off to pennslyvania for some more rejuvenating
camping. the weather predictions are looking good,
the area is beautiful, and i am ready.

weds. i return to pickup j & say our goodbyes here.
the summer is almost gone. but the heat is not.

pictures, stories & joyous choruses to come...

(none)

people were crazy on the roads today. i took a slow joy ride back from
the airport cruising 60mph to avoid having to move into the left lane,
where folks were coming up so fast they were blurry when i caught
a glimpse. it still didn't stop some from sitting on my bumper --
so i did what i usually do - raise my hand in the review mirror,
asking them to relax. it usually works too. i think they
are so used to being there they don't realize i'm there too, not
going any faster.

j is in florida visiting the fam. she's entered the jungle & left me
behind to watch the movies playing here. there's plenty to take
part in and observe. and because i prefer the latter, there will
be ample material to turn into tunes & anthems.

i am so far behind on our trip journals. but now that our work is over
i'll hopefully remember to catch up. while i've been trying to bring
everyone up to date, i've been missing the present happenings.
some thoughts will never make it here if i ever want to be writing
in & with the now.

for my play date with me, myself & i tomorrow, i plan to work on the
thousands of musical notes, sounds & orchestrations that have
been yelling in my head. i've barely picked up my guitar this summer
& i'm losing my mind. i want to play loud, scream & jump around.
but i haven't been able to jump in years. i've learned to be just as happy
sitting joyfully with my old acoustic - letting hymns of scattered
moments come through me from a source that has no face.

good night.

the great american

after 6+ hours on the road, after i've decided i no longer like driving, we head into the
mountains of new york and the little mountain towns that sit between them. here i
finally get my slow second wind, which is like waking up from a nap on a bed of ground,
sore, grouggy, but somehow refreshed. the towns were alive with no people.
i've never seen so many well built comfy towns lack people. it's like everyone up
and ran. and then theres horror movies. the bar owners are really gremlins.
that kid is a monster. oh my, look at those eyes.

i'm not sure what makes abandoned towns appealing. why do some towns make it
and not others? here they all have the same ability to pull the skiers in, the hikers,
the mountaineers, the yuppies. three town in a row, no one in sight, windows in
the middle of the cute antique shops boarded it. cobwebs spun silly over tables,
glass, focus. then one booming town with two ice cream shops, a grocery store
(see above) and a town ordinance posted across the street: "No Cursing, No
Skateboarding, No Alcohol, No Smoking. According to..."

Perhaps its the lack of breath in the abandoned towns that pull
my attention. There is this feeling of loss, of escape, the last store owner
with 40 good years behind him is closing his door, his aunt's farm was
bought by a fancy dancy ski tour company. its got turned into a place
with hot tubs and poker games, money thrown around like the wind
blowing the seeds of plants. or perhaps it became the land where the
rodeo takes place. who knows. all i really know is this town used to breathe,
it used to wake up at 6am and open its doors,
grow its food, grow its children and feed its neighbors. i take photos
and pretend i see ghosts in the windows, not waving, only telling me to get out.

i'm a backbone (?)

what am i to do
when she calls wanting experience to leave the mess
-- she's made?
she's already tried alternate options-
what if she misses the shot, slips on the rope,
--- climbs half way up & can't get back down,
what if i'm not here to answer the pleas,
--- applications for something more?

has her spirit descended into where
---- < her thoughts are
drowning?

no one has what she needs.
--- words hold no water.
actions get tripped up by intentions.

and my anger gets us nowhere. just back
to the beginning, where she thinks no one cares.

say yes to michigan

traverse city is one of my favorite places. my dad &
my other mom have had a nice little place across from
the bay for over ten years now. neither the cabin nor
the lot was taken care of when they moved in - the grass
was waist high, the logs were covered in a gross shade of red.
the neighbors thanked my dad when he fixed it up, it was
the dirty disadvantaged downer, casting shadows on
the well managed residences of the rich & the retired.
it was the lone ghost of the street, all the other houses
were alive.

many summers have been spent up here, acquiring
new hilarious memories & fables. we spent many
nights camping in the backyard while our father
redid the house. (he does everything himself, he
had just finished fixing the septic when we arrived)
our first bedroom here had rainbow wallpaper,
my sister & i loved it. we fought for it, but they
took it down.

yesterday was one of those ideal summer days on the
lake. we were that joking happy family who cooks
out & plays cards. the water was warm (it hasn't been in
years), the sky was clear, the temperature was just
hitting the 80's with a slight cool breeze. we went
swimming in lake michigan, sat in the sand & drew
in the energy that engulfed such a classical setting.

j & i took a drive that overlook the lake. the sun set
on the opposite bay, swiftly sinking beyond the hills.
we chased down the moon through a golf course
until we found it hiding, laughing at our pursuit.
it sat low in the sky, large but silent, facing the
remaining glow, then reflecting it to illuminate the night.

our battle cry

------- ^^ ----- ^^ ------ a prayer for peace. ------------ ^^^ --------- ^^


we played "sons & daughters" as we left our
quiet forest road on our way to cross another border.
we played it as loud as our ears allowed.
we sang along, giving all we could muster.

"hear all the bombs fade away, hear all the bombs fade away"

i can't help but tear up when i hear that song.

what, people? no thanks.

she wanted to venture outside the woods.
--- i said "what, people? no thanks."

we heard middlebury has a nice farmer's market. so we drive the
10 or so miles to check it out. we are in need of some fresh fruit
& veggies, craving them in fact. but it turns out there is not
much going on here. a lot of staring?
more crafts than food, more money cups for the sister
playing guitar than recycling stations. we do however pick up some
amazing goats cheese and some wheat bread that has a slightly
sweet honey taste that makes me happy. we place the fresh
spinach on the cheese & bread pieces and
eat our lunch overlooking a small waterfall. we can't stop smiling.

j says she has a hard time coming back to the woods after going
to civilization. i reply i have a similar problem. its tough for me
to go to civilization after being in the woods. she knows who
i am, she is not surprised.

i have been told many times that i would really like burlington.
but it is really the drive in that caused awe.

down town surprises me. chain stores everywhere.
streets have been closed off to provide a boardwalk
carnival experience, walking down the middle of a mall. busy
bustling shoppers going in & coming out with fancy clothes,
mint foam latte double steamers & purses.
(some made of high quality hemp of course) but as we always
seem to do, we find our little haven in the chaos. the
peace & justice store lies smack dab in the center of this mess.
slow moving queer activists, with signs & markers in their
backpacks just in case (cause you don't really know where
rebellion will strike) & reggae music offset
the unbalanced craziness from outside. finally. we pick
up some damn good bumper stickers, a positive news &
head back through what now seems like an illusion.

we found lake access. a bench to sit on to take the view in.
we don't know how the kid next to us can continue to read
his book: we are madly in love. with the scene, with the water,
with each other- giggling, taking pictures, holding hands.
then we have moments of silence, where we just stare out into
the open breeze, catching glimpses of grand design & harmony.
the mountains rise gracefully from the other side of the lake,
reaching towards the night's constellations, the edge of the globe.
we are drawn to water, though she prefers the ocean, we still
get calm & focused here. the same kid in a look we try to pin-
point just for the hell of it walks by twice.

"alright" i say, "i'm ready for some people."

treehuggin chainsaw?

this morning's green news:

the first article listed at treehugger.com is about a
hand powered chainsaw. (these have been, by the way, around
for a while...as they recognize) so yeah! no gas. but who
exactly is going to treehugger looking for a chainsaw?
-step it up kids!
but just in case you don't
want to hug trees anymore-- check out the link.


http://www.treehugger.com/files/2007/07/hand_powered_ch.php