Oh Humidity, Bane Of Summer!

Oh Humidity, Bane of Summer!

So here I am, landed in the depths of the Brooklyn and sitting in an oven apartment of my herbal wizard friend Irena getting my strength and wits back to myself from travels and sleep deprivations and sundry other woahs. I don't feel culture shock, at least. I will save that for L.A. ;) I still want to sleep. One clock says 2:40. The other says 11:40.  All of me says it must be 4:00 am somewhere and all good children are fast asleep r.e.m-ing it up for a full, productive day outside of dreamland. I am caught of the border of wake and sleep. Do I trust myself to wander Brooklyn alone? In daylight?! Erm.. I think I will wait till later- when the sun is lower. It is too hot too early here and I have not felt this kind of heat in a long time; whether it be artificial or natural. This is a treat to be so uncomfortable in heat for a time. Then I can go back to Rosarito Beach at sunset and welcome to cool air of the great Pacific with more appreciation. The body and mind needs changes- even though I feel like I am dying all the time... some deaths can be welcomed (vampires can agree). Tonight, when I hope to feel more like myself, I will try to see a performance at CAVE by Moeno Wakamatsu. There is this festival on.. you know... and I'm performing.. you know... ;) ...I hope this feels more like a holiday than a working holiday while I am here. So! Bring on the herbs, my witchy friend To chill the nerves That make the mind bend

Cemetary of Russian Molokan in Valle De Guadalupe

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Sinkage.

The blue line means ghost.

Cyrillic text abounds.

There are some strange numbers on this headstone.

Pieces of the past.

All the headstones face the ring sun.

Headless yet with a crown.

A grave dug in March.

I must confess, I thought of Mario Brothers..

Death is Whimsical Today

How can you account for being surrounded by unexpected death? The Crosthwaite Family rents out the storefront of their home to a local business that specializes in bulletproof windows. They were several weeks late in paying their rent and today we all found out why. The husband of the business owner suffered a fatal heart attack. The woman was suddenly left to deal with all the expenses the overwhelming shock of a life ending far too soon. The man was not at all old or sickly. All this was talked about over late lunch and then and THEN during a peaceful bout of siesta- the sound of gunfire. I knew right away that it was not fireworks, but it took a moment to click click because it was full daylight out there. I have never heard 15 (or so) rounds fired during the day! Hugo and I waited and listened for more sounds but heard no sirens or shouting.. and we were both compelled to peek out to see what was going on. Cautiously to the end of the driveway we went. Hugo though it might have been something going on in the lot beyond the wall but it was just a little further over than that. And right on the boulevard! Gawkers were already there on the street watching the police block off the area two lots over from the house. How were the police there already?! There is an empty lot then a family run tamaleria and automotive shop next to that. The shooting happened right in front of the auto place. We hung back trying to understand what was going on. We then ran back in for camera. I had to put shoes on my feet to not be tripping around a crime scene in slippers! I can't be THAT chillaxed! We got in close enough to see there was a dead body laying on the ground, but a police woman stopped us from taking pictures. So we pulled back, continuing to watch interactions of cops and witnesses. One man was taken away in handcuffs another wounded man was taken away in an ambulance. The dead man remained on the ground for ever. It was so hard for me to take pictures. I felt so fragile there where life was so easily ruined or ended for my neighbors. I felt the death there. I wanted to cry with the women. My physical reaction was to hold my own body tight, remind my own flesh that it was ok. I was ok- for now. Reporters were there and we did see more images on the local news of the victims and the vehicle that was shot out, but the story of what happened never came clearer. None of it added up. It was a hit of some kind.. and oh, there is nothing like a public execution to get you out in the open air! But was it a hit by the cops? Why where the tamaleria women crying so much if these were just some narcos? Was an innocent person killed? Why did the army show up? I had previously been encouraging Hugo to eat at that tamaleria because they are our neighbors right next door- and he likes all kinds of foodstuffs! Now I think we SHOULD pay them a visit. Maybe we can hear their story. Maybe not. But hopefully we can give them some feeling of comfort. They have many more tears to come.

Emotional devastation.

Out running errands after the street returned to some kind of normal, we saw a dead dog in the middle of the sidewalk. That's it. No more news of death today. #3. Done. Satis. Enough.

The Tijuana without tourists.

That dam(n) pun never gets old.

Everything that matters most is everything you cannot see.

The Witch King of Angmar- and you know it.

I coughed up that pithiness just now while trying to think of more than a mere little facebook status update thanking everyone for their birthday wishes. It kinda sums up my whole existence...

And by the way, thank you all very, very much for taking a few seconds to send me a note! 

Those few clicks of the keys brought a smile to my face. Your kind remembrances where only other gift I was given this year apart from simple experiences: dining out, movie, circus and museum going...

I did not receive any material gifts- excluding food and drink, of course. I think this is the first time I have not been cluttered with objects useful or otherwise... No cards, no left over cake, no thing to mark the day as special to me. Unless you count several transaction receipts and the doodle I made on my wall calendar. It feels odd to buck long standing traditions, but I am glad to have not been given more things to be responsible for. I feel I have more than enough to deal with as it is- and that I am a lousy steward at that! I should not have my things still piled up at my parents apartment, for instance. I ought to find the time to sort that out and not have them burdened with my material goods. That is not fair, but poverty keeps the odds rigged against amending the situation. Heh. Poverty also keeps me moving around and keeps my parents stationary. 

I don't want to talk about Poverty; that gigantokickyourassadon in the room, but I guess the conversation is going in that direction.

Poverty does a thing that is far crueler than leaving you without a new pair of shoes or with an empty stomach. It flatout robs you of creativity, pinches out the sparks of imagination. It invites Depression. For the longest time I have been confronted with the constant unseen excuse blockades of minds that don't even know they have been duped into a slothful state, instead joining with quick wakeful minds searching for and creating ways to make things happen. Poverty of the wallet is one thing, but poverty of imagination.. that is the real breaker. And that close friend Depression It brings along? That, that is a ruthless killer. I know. I have hosted them both.

Like I said, I didn't want to talk on those lines...

So, after my mind almost wondered completely off the course, I do have some return words, my charge, for all you who wished me birthday happiness: Reader, even if you never get the creativity into a creation, be aware and keep the stream flowing. Please. Because when you don't, it makes is so much harder for those who do- or those who are trying. Don't be a dammed soul.

This Sunshine. And More Anxiety.

So I walk away. When the birds chirping outside of the window put me on edge- I know I have to do something... else. I put all of my work aside (that was making me cry too). I go for a long, long walk from one end of Rosarito Beach to the other and all the way back to my hovel by way of the main road. Maybe 6 miles all together. 

Did it clear my head? Yeah, I think I put my dopamine level up to a point where I can enjoy watching Seven and wonder about making a performance art piece with these bags of Cheetos that I spotted in the Smart & Final that were so big, I could have gotten in one of them! Can you imagine?! 3 kg of Cheetos.. All that orange pseudo cheese..

It would be amazing! BTW - This is my idea! If you steal this idea, you had better do a really fab performance with it!

muted palate

it's nothing like Ireland

This sunshine

Does the light of day  really make you better?

The desire to go out and get so high off the radiation,

The processing of vitamin D

That all your emotional baggage seems to jerk to leathery bits

That you can give to the dog to chew on for fun

But does that really resolve anything?

The dog will vomit it all up in your face later

With blotches and shrivels and cancers

So what then has been the good of it?

modern coveman art

MOXSES on the rockses