--- In [email protected], Duveyoung <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > Turk, > > Nice piece, dude. Felt inside your brain.
I can only hope that this was a pleasurable experience. It's sometimes a bit trying for me. :-) > And for good reason: yesterday I made a decision to move also. > > Synchrony between me and you, go figure. Doo de doo doo... (Twilight Zone theme). Cool. > I live on a lake, and from my office window, for three years > now, 15 feet from the water, each day I see the sun and moon > kiss a mountain on the other side of the lake. Another synchronicity. I once lived on a private lake in Pound Ridge, NY. Only five houses on the lake, and me with a canoe. Great place to meditate, in a canoe, in the middle of the lake. > I've had over 60 species of animals play in my small cove > where the wind sings to the water and leaves. > > Morning slanting rays color the scene as if Maxfield Parrish > was God. Lovely. I'm a Maxfield Parrish time of day person myself. He really had a feel for light. > And yet, I'm leaving. And I understand. > I've seen blue herons stabbing foot long fish and gulping > them down snake lithe throats, seen musk rats fucking like > gonzo vibrators, seen twelve turtles sunning on one log, > seen a hawk swoop down like Dracula on a mourning dove, in > one moment seen red wing blackbirds harrying crows harrying > eagles harrying ospreys for their still writhing talon-viced > prey, seen seen an island raft of white pelicans sleeping > on the water the day after tens of thousands of them > disappeared in a Canadian blink, seen wavefronts of geese > honking south and north, seen trees along the shore bending, > stooping, groaning to the lash of driven rain. And, once, > just once, the winter broke for a week, and as the three > inch thick ice was piled up on the shore like blown > leaves, waves clanged the hunks into each other to produce > a hypnotic chorus of deep marimba chiming. Lovely again. > And I'm leaving. And I still understand. For me it was triggered a couple of months ago by a phrase used by one of my favorite writers, humorist Christopher Moore. In one of his public performances he was asked by a fan why he was selling his house on Kauai and moving back to San Francicso. He said, "Living on Kauai is like dating a supermodel. It's really great, but one morning you wake up and you realize that the thing you want to have most is a conversation." Bingo. That set off mental light bulbs flashing on and off over my head, like in a Crumb cartoon. That was the thing I craved most...more good conver- sations. > I'm going to a place where I can have more society, more > opportunities, more venues. Gunna expand a bit. See how > it fits to drape my spirit with a city. Synchronicity. My new apartment may have a very silent garden, but it ten steps away from my favorite WiFi sidewalk cafe, and 50 steps away from Sitges' nightclub area. Walk 100 more steps, and your toes are in the Mediterranean. I'm going there primarily because of the cafe society, and the level of *conversation* that the people who live there are used to having. It's really neat, and I hope to explore it thoroughly. > Paradise, but even the angels want to incarnate as meat > puppets when claustrophobic heaven becomes merely the > "spiritual boondocks," so, like a truant angel, I'm > biting that apple, grabbing a fig leaf -- gunna > boggie again. > > You in your garden being taught by silent flowers, me > looking for a place to till the social soil and plant > a me. I'll be pretty social, too. We'll just have to see what grows. We've both got the fertilizer thing down pat :-), so now all that remains to be seen is what kind of seeds get planted. > Might get a silent flower to grow. We'll compare notes, eh? Indeed. May your journey be a happy one, filled with heavenly conversations with the other fallen angels.
