Rubble, Trouble, and Celestial Evolution at my Door

Dreaming I am driving in the city, a city, the way I dream of New York lately. Houston Street is always a vast 8-lane highway that breaks off in a V, dividing the Lower East Side from the rest of the city. Massive buildings, uneven, bulging, and swaying—thousands and thousands of windows. No room for air. It’s grey, the sky, the city, everything. Even red and yellow have a coat of grey.

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Winter is Coming

I didn’t bring enough warm clothes with my this week! Wish me luck on my job hunt . . . I’d like to start grooving in Phoenix full-time – though I have had an interesting discussion tonight with my friend Linda and an Apache history lesson (which will resume tomorrow).

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