The Cat Spot

  Steps to heaven or reality?                                                                     It's all the same to me Hari om. Writing a fucking poem on the edge total reason               Temporarily trapped in projected allusions of the past mixed with confusion and illusion of the future...all in present time             Finding peace in the war on destructive, delusional, differentiating designations of duality on  Earth ...

(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 ...

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

Disclaimer: The statements you are about to read below are generalizations based off my personal experiences. These are general statements and of course do not apply to everyone or the entirety of the countries involved. If you find yourself offended, that's your problem and have the freedom to stop reading at any point. France 1. Most people walk around with baguettes in hand 2. The French are a people of indifference 3. French men are small and have scratchy hands 4. Really bad teeth 5. Best trains, I could have lived on the trains for months and been happy 6. Best strawberries I have ever tasted in my life 7. My experience might have been different if I hadn't gone to France with a hairy right wrist Turkey 1. Out of all the airports I have been to Istanbul is my favorite 2. Turkish Airlines is my favorite airline to use 3. Vampires live here Lebanon 1. I love Beirut! God damn those suicide bombers having to ruin it for everyone 2. Great art scene 3. Most hospitable and frien...

And then we escaped the yoga ashram...making dreams of  Pizza Hut a reality. It's about that time to trek up a mountain. First catch the morning bus to Pokhara. Onward to the Aunapurna range. After that, I'll never grow up.

Heard arguing in the street at 3am. Looked out the window. A couple walking with backpacks appeared sleep deprived, emotionally rought, and exuding western traveler ignorance, they were American. The man reminded me of a long haired squirly, boundry lacking yoga teacher I briefly dated back in the Chicago. The woman short, thick, and confused as to how the fuck they got there.  Went outside to be of some help to the American couple. Relief melted over their faces when realized a fellow American stood infront of them.  "Where are you guys trying to go?"-Me Both began speaking telling their version of the story, at the same time. Snippets of spending most of their cash on taxis taking them to the wrong places in attempts to get to a hostel is what I caught. The woman looked at the man as if she was going pull his hair out for being such an idiot, which he was.  "What's the name of the hostel?"-Me Again both began speaking at the same time. "It's a Tal or ...

Before leaving France for Lebanon I yet again completed another compression, only this time into one carry on.  Everything fit. It's all about how you pack. What's new and what I've learned thus far... 1. France is France 2. Something about Lebanone inspired me to purchase my frist pair of Converse ever. Life change. 3. Lebanese Women have the best hair  4. It's impossible to be bored in Beirut 5. Lebanese people are very friendly and social. After living in France I almost forgot what it felt like to have social life and friends 6. I took a lover for the first time after being overseas  7. If you need dental work done, get it done here. It costs about a 1/3 less than it does in the states. My friend got her wisdom teeth taken out here. Back in the states she was told they would have to break her wisdom teeth in order to get them out. This guy was so good he managed to take the teeth out whole. She didn't use anesthesia and sits with me now at the cafe I'm writi...

After taking intensive french classes for two months I decided I was burnt out and wanted to do something else. I found a posting for an au pair position at the college and called the number. It was for a single british woman and her three children ages 3,7, and 9. This seemed a good opportunity to clear some karma with my nannys from childhood.  The house located in beautiful southern France just west of Cannes.  The mother, a former heroine addict, clean for 8 plus years, moved to Theoule to escape the past. The location of the home was removed from major public transit making it difficult to leave or travel anywhere without a car. The next month my life would no longer be my own. Taking care of other people's children is not easy. I caught a glimps of what my life may have been like had I choosen to have children, making me realize that I'm not ready and there is a lot I want to do before I if/ever have children.  I got a taste of what it must have been like for my nan...

Upon returning to Cannes from a  charming, slightly haunted wedding in Saint George sur Cher, I found myself incredibly ill, depressed, and alone. I fell in the dark hole that one wonders if she will ever come out of. I woke up crying, went to bed crying, cried on the train, in the market, at school, basically anywhere. Looking back I can't believe how liberated I was to allow myself to express such raw emotion for the world to see, and didn't have the chance to think twice about it because the tears streamed without prevail. I wished I had died in the accident, kept thinking I made a huge mistake coming over here (yeah it was that bad). I had no friends, nothing, no one, nada. There isn't much to do in Cannes aside from going to the beach, going to the beach, and going to the beach. What Florida is to the United States, Cannes is to France. Lots of old people and lots of teens and springbreaker types just on a more international level. No one liked me at all. Some of the s...

The first week I found Martine's put off demeanor towards my debutant (beginner) american self endearing and a point of encouragement to speak french. The only problem was that the more I went for it the more annoyed she got. She really didn't like me. When ever I said anything her face took an immediate stance of disgust and then would speak to me smugly in english. It got to a point where I just stopped talking. Meal times were really uncomfortable because she would sit across from me and just stare at me, then speak freely and friendly with Stefanie.  8/9/2013 - Breakfast Martine asked me a question in english. Before I could get more than four words out she cut me off and sternly said, "Your accent is very strong. It's a very strong American accent. Slow down. I don't understand you when you speak." Stefanie and I looked at each other as if she we couldn't believe she just said that. 1. My natural speech pattern is not fast and I take time to get words...

After having my right hand and arm immobilized for over three months, it was scarry to see what came out of my cast. The upper part of my right, hand, and forarm had decided to grow more hair. This hair does not look like the rest of the hair on my body. It's dark, thick, course. It grew in places I never had hair before. My arm looked like a baby deer or a man hand. Something seems very off about the way fractures and breaks in bones are medically treated. I understand that the bone has to heal back, at the same time when an entire part of your body is immobilized, there are healthy muscles and mobility around the injured area that become depleted due to this segmented immobilization. There has to be a better way to heal fractures and breaks. For me the greatest difficulty in the healing process wtih the fractured scaphoid was bringing strength and mobility back into the healthy muscles and limbs. My whole hand was dead for about a week after removing the cast, not because the f...

After a week of classes I have a vocabulary of a high functioning four-year-old sometimes a five-year-old depending on the time of day, if I have eaten, and if I have had my nap.  Vendredi (Friday) was the first day I began asking questions to Martine and Stefanie. A lot of "Qu'est-ce que c'cest...? Also a lot of "Je suis..." Expressing emotions and and asking questions.  At dinner I listened intently to Martine and Stefanie's conversation While listening I observed their mouths. If you want to speak french, you have to move your mouth. They stopped and looked at me. J'ami a ecouter e regarder vous bocas-Me (correcting me) bouche (mouth)-Martine  She had me repeat the corrected form of the sentence many times. As we were heading out for night of watching Pelote Basque, I noticed Stefanie changed her pants. Choisi un pantalone-Me Oui! (laughs) Katrine, what happened to you today? Did you eat a french dictionary?-Stefanie P.S. Everyone in France calls me Ka...

Martine and I did not hit it off very well. She being of a physically short and emotionally stern nature did not find my communicative facial expressions cute in response to my French newborn muteness. Her eyebrows would raise and her blue eyes peer up at me ultimately to complete a full roll to the right. This happened quite a bit. She would stare at me while I cut bread to tell me not to do that. She served me stale baguette for breakfast when I asked for yogurt. My bedroom is the only room in the flat doesn't have wifi.  My very existence was a problem. Stefanie, the German, noticed that Martine cared very little for me. I wondered how Martine and I would live together for three months.  I decided to see if there was another host family I could possibly live with. The college was great and found two other families for me to visit. I set up a time to meet with one. It took about 30 minutes to get there by bus. The mother and daughter were very sweet and emphasized how much t...

Cannes welcomed me with great humidity. The educated retired 65 year-old woman who enjoys sailing, dancing, cinema and long walks picked me up at the College International de Cannes. She looked at my luggage and seemed confused. She began speaking to me in French. I smiled with confusion and humility. "I don't speak french."-me "I don't speak english."-Martine We both stared at each other, probably thinking the same thing. She brought me back to her flat. Very clean and simple, great view.  After some broken english I discovered there was a German girl also staying at the flat. Stefanie speaks english very well and teaches french in Germany so inevitably speaks French quite well also.   Conversations with the three of us consist of Martine and Stefanie speaking in French, me spacing out onto the water, Stefanie rephrases, Martine and I stare at each other trying to gage emotional response of the other while her piercing blue eyes penetrate intensely with the...

Fit my entire life into these three carry ons.  Seattle was so sweet to me.  Hours away from my new life on old land.  It's been real America. Really real.  Bon voyage.  Catch ya on the flip side. A little theme music to peace out on : http://youtu.be/b88da_W9U7o  

Something about this city allures my spirit. The natural beauty, the weather, the people, the vibe.  Cities are people.  There are some cities you want to live in; there are some people you want with you on a daily basis. Some cities you can visit multiple times; some people you touch base with every so often.  Those cities you only need to visit once; those people you only meet never to hear from again.  Cities you hang out in for a while because you want to learn something and have an experience;  people come into your life for a period of time to ride a wave until it crashes to shore and a mutual departure is desired. Some cities you have roots in but need to pull out and grow in a new light to someday bring new nutrients to those roots; some people we are connected to from the beginning and need to venture off to find new life and someday bring back and share. Those few cities you only need to visit once and you are exactly where you want to be; those few p...