It is difficult to write about nasty things when one is visiting heaven so I wont. I am alone except for Ivana, the active turtle, that scurries back and forth in her huge aquarium feet away from where I am writing. Thank God, Audrey, Willie Bo and Kim
are away in NYC and I have the run of their kind house. They practise Buddhism and I can feel the good earth vibes. They have a flowering yellow bush (Spanish broom) out front of their house that I have never seen. So I shoot it from all angles. Would it flower in Tucson?
Doubtful. Their well attended garden backyard have acorn cones scattered along a stone path that I will put in perfect order so it appears, on digital film. that I am in a fairyland (which I am). I am in Santa Fe, NM and I just had bfast at the Pantry restaurant. The food is very good but I come to table next to the old Mexican American vibe that runs in the back room since 1948. The love and respect between the locals- both workers and patrons- is palatable as is the red chili (chicken based).
Last night was straight out of a Gabriel García Márquez novel. Up in the Santa de Christo mountains with old friends. The woman spinning my bead on my wrist first did so in 1966 when we were boyfriend and girlfriend in Boulder, Colorado. Over red wine and Jackson Browne, Van Morrison, Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks, Tom Waits Heartache and Vine, and Dire Straits we remembered back. We’ve remained friends these many fifty years but life keeps separated from such an evening as we were having with her sister Char and her husband Fred. Just the four of us. (I don’t have internet here so pl wait for the rest of the evening in the mountains)