Tag Archives: tethering dreams

San Benito Island Sunset

Sunset off the Isla San Benito Islands. This group of three sit fifty miles west of the Baja Coast. Toss overboard all your small selfish comforts. A swell and chop tossed sea filters the few from the many. Three hundred miles south of San Diego is no longer a mere dance of make believe images passing through the imagination. Off Baja is in the mind.

Crew and skipper gathered in Spirit’s cockpit for the show. Sketched out hanging in front of the blue above were an intermingling mix of clouds, some billowing where another section was rolling then another misting into a vast and vertical fog.

East of our southbound sailing ketch Isla Cedros stretched out by rugged mountains that crashed into the sea. The shoreline measures twenty miles north to south. Spirit was swaddled by islands, ocean and sky. The source of matter and energy was nearing that interval when our planet would turn on the sun and allow its lighted beams to burst out on fire

A sole mariner was nosing north and west. Further south out of sight but on our display was a pleasure craft underway moving at cruising speed toward our position.

Just for this one sunset we had been nonstop from Ensenada to Turtle Bay for more than 33 hours.

In this dusk a chorus of scarlets and golds interwove through wild blue yonder. Beyond the core bursting precious metal like bangles were distant feathering lavender smudged atmospherics. Each carnival of pinwheels, all the darting twinkling scabbards of luminous dusk appeared as its own most original once in a lifetime taxi time traveling speed of light to another and then another soul boggling transformation. Above the San Benitos Islands we found the symphonic fires played by an orchestra in the the great muse’s sky. We sopped up the incomprehensible stowing each taunting beam of delight into the hungry heart of our color seeking imaginations.

Richard Henry Dana’s classic aboard the vessel Spirit

South downwind into the night Spirit gathered the force. Whatever witness, whatever testimony the cosmos had bestowed upon us was more than enough. For some measure of our transitioning from daytime to night we were afforded a seat in the grandest of grandstands. What dusk offered initially was at its extinguished end taken to be ethereal tequila with a lick of salt and bite of lime. All the dancing phantoms, all the kindred forms of light were murmuring in our inner soul tides teasing us to treasure what moments before had been described by this crew to be some of the most precious light painted beatings of our hearts in our passage here on earth. Amen.

Cattlemen Association Chaining Pinion Pines

No Such Thing as Free Range

We’re blowing through this decade. I had expected more from time. I got this instead.

Doorbell rings…

“Who’s there?” 

“It’s me, 2020.”

“You mean like perfect vision twenty-twenty?”

“I mean like Mother Nature-Father Time.”

Go away…”

Only going to take about two years.

I’ve got an idea for a new villain. Going to pin some evil doing on cattlemen intent on cutting down more pinion pine trees to make way for more forage for their herds. 

Pine nuts sell for $40 a pound last time I checked. Steak sells for less, when consumed as directed puts users on a path for cardiovascular disease and heart attacks. 

Oldest Trees in the World are Located in Nevada

Got a pretty good rotten no good miserable group of folk that come hell or low water are intent on growing more meat and to do that want to clear out one of the most precious tree’s in the world. 

Range in Nevada is a tangle of confused interests. Government doles out grazing rights. Cattlemen bitch about their allotment. Federal land is in theory about multiple uses. Cattlemen believe otherwise.

I’d say I’ve got a pretty good villain. Stripping trees out of the landscape, cow pies everywhere, stubborn mind’s made-up don’t get in my way or I’ll carve your heart right out of the center of your chest and feed it to the vulture types wearing spurs and kicking an old Ford pickup truck around.

Hard not to laugh and cry at this tragedy of ranching overreach. 

That’s the plan. A comedy with a good rotten no good bottom feeding villainous bunch of free grazers running roughshod over the landscape.

Happy New Year

A Circus Show School

shoes

School of Circus Dreams

Circus summer camp is a portal into the mosaic of my heart and hope. In this station of my life helping youngsters look beyond the finite horizon to what is beyond animates a piece of my own biography. I was that misunderstood boy busy box, the over loveable squirming unmanageable never quite able to be quite entirely quiet kid in class.

Whatever national lunacy going down in the media last week was not going on where I put my time and energy. Sure I was worried about our students. We have no metal detectors, no fences, gatekeepers. Circus camp was taking place in an ordinary city where we go about our business assuming we live in an open, free and safe society.

My schedule is pressing. I want to at least send out this emergency flair of hope. We are better than all of this. We are a loving and kind people. We are the mother’s and father’s who traveled and performed and who now teach. We are guardians and our duty to the future is paramount. To be entrusted with 95 new souls means to keep both hands on the wheel and our eyes on the road.

diablo

Toys as Gateway to a Good Life

Two young brothers were in my group. If not alert to the impulse you’d peg them as troublemakers, as class disrupters. Once I realized how silly my expectations were, how they were never going to act like the best behaved girl of the same age, from the same neighborhood, in the same class things only could improve. All I had to do was sprinkle some time and attention their way. All I had to do was appreciate those two lads, point them toward opportunity and then watch as their imaginations and playfulness took flight.

The two boys noticed right off I was making room for them and in exchange they met their instructor with a measure of mutual respect. I had 95 separate, distinct, individual experiences with our future. I worked my tail off and I’m grateful I had a shot at sharing my circus dream with my community’s children.

Edited Red Star

 

 

 

 

April 10th, ’18 Headwaters

As ever buy a book, book a show… My highlight reel, biography, book synopsis and contact information are all right here a few clicks away. You can scroll down to my blog. Hope you will and see you back soon.

Where Spirits Go to Fly

chasmal small 2

Tideline

Much preparation is underway in readying our boat to sail from San Francisco to Santa Catalina Island. I’m working on acquiring a second anchor. Type, size, shackle, chain, rode and large bucket to stow the gear in is in process. Anchoring a boat requires skill. Next to going somewhere being able to set your hook into the ocean floor is right up there on the to do list.

I’ve carved most of the summer to make this round-trip voyage. From the middle of July to the middle of September we will be sailing. I’ve never been to Catalina during prime time, peak season. I am ever the busy busker seeking to know more about my California kind and how my kind behaves when the days are long and dusk is a straggler.

Yucatan sunset small

Sunset in Living Color

In the present there are shows to do, writing to get done, circus workshops to teach between now and when we shove off. There remains much on the plate with life not offering a momentary lapse to flirt with a standstill.

For hijinks I’m reading about the expedition and discovery of the source of the headwaters of the Nile River. The source waters eluded discovery and somewhat stubbornly were finally located in the latter nineteenth century.

Like consciousness it is always easier to witness the phenomenon of thought even if you are left to wonder from where our river of thought begins? When the headwaters to my mind can be plausibly located and convincingly explained, until those mysterious temporal coordinates are precisely set down, I will wait in the camp of those who seriously question whether this precise location will ever be found.

heart of coin

Heart Counting on Change

Edited Red Star