The Cat Spot

(The famous abandoned " Beatles Ashram ." All photos taken with my phone :/) Misty mystic and the long and winding road That leads to the front gate Rooftop hopping  what is love and all we need look out the window of dichotomy abandon temporary shutters of false protection When power disappears where does it go...

Flying internationally with China Southern was a bare minimum experience and a reminder of how terrible airplane food was back in early 90's, late 80's and beyond. First stop was Guanghan, China. I couldn't wait to get off and eat something that didn't smell as if it could survive chemical warfare. There was one shop open close to my terminal. I ordered a breakfast sandwich and coffee. After waiting 19 minutes thinking the process would only take 10 I feared I might miss my flight. I asked for a premade sandwhich in the front. Another five minutes goes by until two bags of premade sandwiches are handed to me. Before anything I was gently shoved out and then I ran. When I got to my seat I found four egg and tomato sandwiches. Not what I ordered but defiantly beat anything China Southern was serving. The flight was filled with snoring and heat. I always wondered "Who are these people that order stuff from sky mall or whatever magazine the airline has where you

(Flashback to Nepal January 2014) Kathmandu was a sweet surrender of a mother fucker. Reeling from the beautiful brutal Beirut I wandered the streets with a repelling sadness. Ready to combust and turn to dust. Walking past people in a haze replaying unchangeable moments.  Out of the noise and chaos in my head and in the street a voice asked, “Are you American?” I walked past for a spilt second and stopped. His voice resonated in me. His tone, his certainty. I turned around and looked at him almost getting knocked over by others passing by. He pulled me up onto his store front platform out of the rain and looked into my eyes, “I can feel your sadness.” I took a deep breath to hold it all in but the tears streamed down. I hated myself for being weak and vulnerable and letting my guard down instantly in front of this stranger while at the same time it felt so good to finally release. He felt familiar and safe.  He brought me out a milk tea. We chatted more and got me crack

I remember the first night. Minimal clothing and a bicycle. Slept on the floor. Lit candles for a soothing remembrance of other times. Indian food every night for a week. The heart wanted India. And this is where the dream started.  Six months later the room fulfilled his promise. Forging from a transitional flux, we part ways in gratitude and slumber. Flavor, dust, cool heat harmonies. Minutes before flight. India awaits...

She's been calling for a while. Years maybe. I kept ignoring with the intention of calling back at some point. I wasn't ready. I needed more time, more money, freedom. Felt I wasn't good enough and even attempted to erase the thoughts completely.  She continued to creep into my day dreams making sure I never forgot.  The heart wants what the heart wants.  Then it happened: "Hello." "(Silence)" "I know... I am truly sorry to keep you waiting so long. I want you to know that I am keeping my promise. We will see each other soon." India I hear you. I'm coming... (View from the first day I moved into the tiny magical studio in LA. Everyone told me I was crazy to think I could find a place for $600. In fact I found a place for $550 all utilities included plus laundry, private bathroom and kitchen,backyard, hardwood floors, and great natural light. Being a semi-minialist helps.  Oh LA you've been good to me) 

Once upon on a New Mexican dresser there hid a sweet doll from society. She was confused on how to relate to the world so she cast a sleeping spell on herself only to awake upon opening the box. Time passed and the day finally came to break her spell. The little doll looked around and decided she would rather continue sleeping and asked the opener of the box to please close the top and to leave a note to only open the box after society evolves. Thanks.  #dressertopstories   #evolve