Man In Field with Babies

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Look, I'm not going to say anything.


That's it.





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The Blue Winged Pig

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Yesterday we went to the Getty. Saw much good art, ate much good food.

Held hands.


Kissed.


On the mouth.



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When I am dying and my life is flashing before my eyes, this day will be one of those I cherish.



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And, my daughter went to the movies with me the day before. And enjoyed it.



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My cup overflows...




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Por fin: Adios, San Diego!

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Good-bye, and thanks for all the fish!!




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I'm officially certified as a pretty-good forensic psychophysiologist.



So put that in your pipe and smoke it.



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Look out, baby, I'm comin' in hot!




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flores en la gratitud para mis bendiciones abundantes

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breath.
sight.
touch.
hearing.
taste.
smell.
strong hands.
love.
love.
love.
love.
love.
love.
love.
love.
love.
love.
love.

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art. work. pain. tongues. cows. rivers. clouds. tears. babies. dogs. odd birds. chocolate cake. sake. clothing. houses. pens and pencils. hot water. coffee. coffee. coffee. more wine. grilled vegetables. sunset. ha, ha, and long walks in the rain. on the beach. sex. and sex and sex. with my wife. for a hundred, hundred, hundred lifetimes. a numberless number. kalpas and kalpas. hand holding. hitting things. the night sky. the numberless stars and the specific ones. insects in their particular oddness and machinery. banging things together. mashing stuff. underwater glories. that I used to go underwater hours and hours on end. islands. danger. longing. and longing.


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paint.



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techmology. astrology. numerology. psychology. physiology. monkeys. more monkeys. little bitty things. late night establishments. every single book. ice cream with hot fudge. rain. lizards. caribou. the undiscovered. the forgotten. the broken. praise.


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praise the glory of it all.



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running through it fast as you can, looking, looking, breathless with wonder and terror and when you collapse at last and you can't move and you're dizzy and can't catch your breath watch the spinning stars and listen hard because they're calling your name.



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ceaselessly.





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This Way to the Circus

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Another day.





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For which I'm grateful.





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Really.




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I'll soon be home, and that's what counts.




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Unawatuna

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I made a bonzai trip home over the weekend. It was so good to see my family. Walking into the house was like walking into a body- it was so warm and intimate and strange and beautiful. You can check out some pics at Planting Along The Verge for a tour if you want. ( I tried to link this, but I couldn't get it to work, sorry. It's over there at the top of my links column, though.)

Anyway, I love our odd little domicile.


And my odd little wife.



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So I'm back in San Diego for the final week of class. We're all a bit unruly at this point, so I'm sure they're as ready for us to leave as we are to be gone.



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Yesterday I was in a funk. Man alive. Pissed off and sad and feeling sorry for myself. Like I had gotten unplugged from the universe's supply of goodness. It's strange to me how the bad feelings can wash over you so completely for no good reason. I guess the neurochemical bathwater gets bad and you just got no choice for a while. I mean, I know you can go in there and fiddle with the knobs a little bit, maybe get things a smidge more comfortable with meditation or medication, but I just sat in the cold bath and cursed my maker for a while.

I can really be a big ol' baby.


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I love my daughter and I am asking the Universe here and now to open my eyes and my heart to her more fully, so that I can be the kind of dad she needs right now. Not the kind of dad I think she needs, or that I think I should be.


Just the one she needs.



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Also, a shout out to dottie bones for turning me on to Regina Spektor.





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Go forth now and do the nasty, everyone.



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