Feel better all ready

Summer breezes sometimes blow cold
Across the bay with pastimes grown joyless
But whip them in the eyes I must
To feel them surge warm and thrill once more

The rising sun and Jimi Hendrix
Losing traction on the curves
Forgetting self on carnival rides
Hypnotized by the abyss

The subtle joy of pain every true skateboarder bemuses
Has taken flight across unskateble cobbles, to werewolf moors
Self absorption steals the joy, lends power to death, fear to life
But the moving love that keeps me free is on the move again

To spin, to dance, to fly & sing
Meditation, music making, progressing across watery bodies
Sensing seasons, ignoring reasons, howling at the moon
Crying with the stars, trees grow with me, coat my car in sap

April 2010, in Some Walnut Shells

Spring storms blow in rough and wild but cannot quench my blistered feet blazing around the verdant trails. Wind and rain, flowers and sun, this tree huggin' soil worshipper zims that vernal edge singing the body electric, feeling real Walt Whitman up in here, Leaves Of Grass, up in here.

"Buddhas do not wash away ill deeds with water, Nor remove transmigrators' sufferings with their hands, Nor transfer their realization to others. Beings are freed through teachings of the truth, the nature of things. --Buddha

Swam Donner Lake at 9:00 AM 4/26/10 for ~1 minute. Yes, there was snow on the beach. Immersion in cold water is some crazy stuff. I do believe I liked it. Then I learned to snowboard; loved it.

Used to wait for my favorite pet wild freshwater crab sitting on the shore of San Francisquito Creek. I did not know one could find crabs in freshwater until she scuttled by my favorite creekside basking spot, little blue devil with her home under rock. I hope her descendants scuttle there still.

Kids' art takes me places people plumb forgot existed, and beyond. My son convinced me to roll down a steep grassy hill in Tilden Park with him, the one between the botanical garden and the Brazilian Room. Had completely forgotten how dizzy that can make a person, but now it's the freshest, way. Daughter did it too, of course - 1st time's free.

Son says "I wouldn't want to live in a little bitty world, and have a little bitty life, because then you would be born and die in like five minutes." Might be good enough for Alan Jackson, but we're looking for that step up.

"Surrealism is not a school of poetry but a movement of liberation, a way of rediscovering the language of innocence, a renewal of the primordial pact, poetry is the basic text, the foundation of the human order. Surrealism is revolutionary because it is a return to the beginning of all beginnings." --Octavio Paz

Chthonic. Look it up. Jung laughs with us while Faust and Faunus smile vacant past unthinkable dreams, or are those memories? Reflections of reflections through looking glasses and shattered knives.

"This life disappears only very quickly Like something written in water with a stick." - Buddha.

Found daughter trying to figure out the cover to Cheap Thrills by Big Brother and The Holding Company, yes the real album cover from 1967. First it brought back memories of myself trying to figure that art out, then I went ahead and actually looked at it. It has to the funniest album cover of all time. Long live R. Crumb. About Janis on the back my daughter said "She's happy."

"There ain't no money in poetry. That's what sets the poet free...cold dog soup and rainbow pie is all it takes me get me by." --Guy Clark Windy

Winter night, edge of Tomales Bay: no tent, old bag, let breeze in strong through zipper. tickling chill woke me every 20 -minutes - I laughed and thanked lucky stars for wil...d gifts, turned over to more ochre dreams.

Feeling inspired for more night hikes after last full moon traipse in the howling cold wind & pouring rain. Have finally realized, with a little help from a extraordinarily visionary friend, that we do not have to wait for any weather, moonphase, or water temperature to arrive.

"May we have the confidence of joy and delight When food and wealth accumulated with miserliness are left behind And we separate forever from cherished and longed-for friends, Going alone to a perilous situation." -The First Panchen Lama

SO excited to live this good life

Yesterday I sailed for the 1st time. We left the Richmond Marina late morning and returned at sunset, gorgeous, giving, feeling, beyond previous experiences. The folks were friendsome and I was on point, maybe a little jacked up with the thrill of the saltwater and blue sky. Stopped at San Francisco Aquatic Park for lunch, realized a 10-year old dream of swimming there, delightful, delightful, cold, and salty. Dominique and Chris swam too, and we felt quite fab about it.

Just got home from the wildest full moon hike yet, and I have been leading them for years. Just one taker and I drove to the back entrance to Kennedy Grove Park in the blooming storm of the decade, disappeared into the shadows beneath the old trees, smelled the bay trees smelling bayish, brought the moss & ferns inside us, marveled at them, then turned ourselves inside out, the better to know the lonesome hill entire. Ineffable, ineffable, but still I feel the urge to try to describe this blessing based in mud and the windy woods at night.

A woodpecker, sounded like a big old flicker to me, tapped on a tree to let us know we had left El Sobrante proper and entered into a realm most humans will never know. The storm blew in hard, whipping the trees, tearing through the forest like a herd of elephant spirits, leaving branches akimbo. Abandoned the Black Oak Grove trail in favor of the more sheltered Upper Sea Foam trail, which led us to the Lake View Lookout, where the wind promptly blew my hat off and threatened to crush my taker's umbrella, but we endured, nay, even dove off the west side of the slope into the fierce cold wind, down Lower Seafoam trail. She pointed out cracks in the soil indicating major earth movement; I raised my eyebrows while feeling for the creep of the hill, got a little giddy, passed by the dripping bench. It got steep, the storm blowing in arrived in force, dropped giant drops on the steep trail in quantity, traction got low, my hat became porous, navigation got tricky. With the miracle of Goddess we made it down without falling, stopping every now and then just to listen to the sounds of the storm whipped woods at night. Words cannot describe, but these tears of gratitude must mean something. I feel good, blessed, like I have stepped into the light after a month in the dark, those foggy trail visions will circle my mind until the electricity fades from my eyes.

These two wonderful trips, in addition to the 11 bands, party at the gym, day hike, and birthday lunch more or less top off my birthday celebrating month, and yes, I have no shame, might even see Hank III tonight...

BE HERE NOW

Kayaking and Fishing on Tomales Bay

Live in that land of impossible bliss, intense like childhood,
storybook, enchanted. Everything works out pissing perfect, for now.

Tomales Bay took me in without batting an eye, soul cleanser. Left lines in the water
all night but no sharks, rays, or other yummy vertebrates managed to hook themselves, but I tried kayaking
for the first time and loved it. Paddled all around Marshall Marina, saw
a magnificent fire rainbow, an otter, several seals, schools of live jellyfish, hawks buzzing within a paddles distance, and a hundred other kinds of birds.

Moon set one of the best of all time, Li Po joined us in spirit, perfect crescent. Sky so clear the Milky
Way stood out. Could hear the waves crashing on the coast just over the hill,
across the bay.

I got to drive my AWD but not really meant to be taken off-road sedan down the beach without incident (hee-haw). Slept with no tent or tarp, on a very misty night, with my head a long arm's length from high tide. Even though I woke up a few times in the night cold, my good mood shone through so happy that I did not mind, even thought my shivery plight rang funny in the steady wind blowing jets of cold air on my feet. That laughter in the face of an uncomfortable sleeping arrangement indicates an exceptional good mood. Keep that ball bouncing.

So warm the next morning I did pilates in my t-shirt, and kayaked some more in fair rough windy
conditions, which tickled me dayglow with that intimation of mortality, especially once I found myself smack in the middle of the bay having a hard time turning around without capsizing. Kept me grinning ear
to ear, considering how the swim to shore would feel. Spent time paddling around a darling hippy dream ship named Just
Imagine, which I went ahead and did, delicious.

Drove home a way I'd never cruised before that blew my mind with it's scenic folds & rocks, grass & trees. Marshall-Petaluma Road to Lucas Valley Road to Novato. Must try them on bicycle. So pretty they could cause Chuck Norris to bust out with power tears.

Wonderful time with my kids all afternoon, filling their new sandbox together,
cooperating, playing, no shirt, no shoes, shorts, running, napping. Then I took
4-year old Gumbo to a BBQ at Maira's house in West Oakland, where some excellently insane
artists live. We checked the fire sculptures, electric motorcycle, robots, got
a personal blacksmithing lesson complete with souvenir, met some cool folks, and then raced home to rock us all
gently to sleep.

Waxing Winter Moon

Took this photo of the waxing moon on the solstice. Now almost a month has passed, and the moon moves colder, growing again.

Easy to indulge in feeling bad what with all the "bad" poking sharp sticks at me, but little blessings distract me from that ancient pasttime with poised regularity. Smiles hide in vain, laughter erupts star gazer faith through tired eyes. What would my health coach say? Make a goal, follow through, feel good. Mardi Gras season has arrived. Who has time for all this life? Just a few more laps, another minute in the sauna, one more story before bed, a final fifth of 12-year old single-malt, unplanned delights, stolen afternoons, missed oppurtunities, devoured by thick coastal fog and falling temperatures, salty water and sand.

San Diego and Back, Full Moon Style

We survived yet another harrowing journey into California's bastion of conservatism known as Southern California, San Diego to be semi-exact, Scripps Ranch to be overly exact. Temperatures ranged up to 105 F going down and coming up. I recall rolling down all the windows at a rest stop and saying "Here's what 105 degrees feels like kids, check it out." Weather like that seems to wilt everyone, and to make some angry. I saw a homeless guy hanging out under the sparse shade of some tiny tree in Oceanside, mountain bike parked nearby, looking about ready to kill the next suit in a luxury SUV that gave him an awkward eye. The kids took it well and the sunset coming home, viewed from the west side of the Altamont pass, near all the windmills, was spectaclar and very red.

Later last night, back at our shack, the full moon shone with unreal lustre and temperatures remained in the seventies. I contemplated what a full moon hike would have been like as I unpacked the luxury SUV. Just then, little Gumbo says, "But, don't you want to go for a walk?" The little freak must have read my mind, or maybe we just think alike, but I couldn't say that I didn't. We had a nice little hike that included a lovely stare down session with a sizable buck that quivered and whose eyes and nose glistened in the brilliant moonshine. Sure feels nice to have a moon-loving son like Gumbo.

Full Moon Hike No.1 A Success

Made good on my plan to hike the hills under the light of the full moon. Big halo. Amazing light through the trees. Warm California winter night. Laughter. Tree climbing. Only two people fell in the mud, that I know of. Turned out that we only hiked for about an hour, but indelible memories care not for minutes and hours. Of course, having led one moonlit group to the brink of insanity and hopelessness without great bodily injury, the myriad plans of the power mad now harangue me with fury. Mmmmmm...night bike ride to Lake Anza for swimming, wait for the heat.