Cites at night

The computer keyboard looks like cities from a plane at night while reflecting against a mirror in the dark

Back when nature was pristine

 

Little house on the prairie kind of life

I want a little house on the prairie kind of life where I carry a pail of water for washing clothes and day dream about a boy down the hill

Marvelous rooster

Some Friday nights

She was a beautiful baby calf

They put kohl under their eyes against glare

RamSita

The rolling of oranges

जूनकिरी, junekiri, June bug, lightning bug, firefly

I really don’t care

How do I make myself care more, just how?  

When I pissed myself in China

No, it’s not something that I’m proud of; it never is, but some moments are so effing awkward, traumatic, yet thrilling that I have to write about it. The smell of sweat when you’re traveling alone for two straight days; running about here and there, trying to figure shit out while you follow rules less

Lowlands that stay flat

Lowlands that stay flat and go nowhere Fields of yellow grain that flood with shallow, sparkling waters Feelings that linger, barely touching Dreams, like transparent images Inconceivable echos surround And I just cannot Seem to exist in your world

Changed caterpillar

Faraway eyes

Desolate roads

Vegetable seller

When I was a kid, I reclined near the balcony door under the sunlight and overheard the veggie seller shout out vegetables he was selling for the day. Such a lively thing it was; the crows were crowing… the birds were chirping, dogs barking, music playing, people talking, cars honking, kids yelling, bells ringing, whistles

Zoning out as usual

After almost 24 hrs without sleep in LA and a day of walking around in China, I’m just as is near the himalayas. Dusty roads and birds chirping around me mid daylight, but I’m just lying in bed inside. Staring at the cracked ceiling Filled with love.    

Can’t go to sleep

Alright, let’s do some midnight yoga …or draw ourselves doing midnight yoga  

Presence; butterflies, bees, bugs all over plants

I could, in the night

I could sit out here and draw… no I could sit by the fire with my lover, Calm, with the warmth of his body I could sit on a tree with my legs hanging And play with the moon that shines between the swaying branches And with the tantalizing stars I’ll try singing a verse

Finding life in the cracks

Stomping on spongy tree stumps

Baked skin and olive green

Soak it all in, and trap it Before the sun disappears for the next six months in this desperate place

Bug crawling on my leg