Deer, egrets, cows, calves, horses (playing), dogs, seals, hummingbirds, squirrels, geese (in formation) (honking), a black cat, seagulls (their aplomb!), a kite (bird), butterflies.

Cow parsnip, fennel, mariposa lily, tower of jewels, tea roses, orchids, camellias, bamboo, juniper, chickweed, iceplant, California sage, pampas grass, agave.

Breathing it in.  Now this is air.  It is like in Brooklyn there is no air.

Eating so many varieties of mush I am coming to love mush.  A feast last night of portobello soup with goat cheese and little bits of roasted garlic, a Persian dish called coucou (sp?) of parsley, cilantro, dill, and eggs, tofu pesto, garlic mashed potatoes, avocado, papaya, chutney, olives, mashed artichoke hearts with garlic mayonnaise, and pumpkin pie. Happy Festivus!

I feel a little like Frankenstein with this welt.  I took it on the chin, as they say!

In Brooklyn it is like there is no air.  I will have a big party and fill up the haunted space with celebration and bodies.  I am interested in joy (what’s that like?). “Don’t postpone joy,” James said.  Sometimes he is very wise. Sun is glinting through kinetic eucalyptus leaves, I would like to be a dog today and roll on the wet ground underneath them. That smell. Pinched life of betrayals, begone.  Closed-in, morose feeling of waiting for things to get better or at least change, begone. Febrile obsessions, begone, unless they are amusing. I need an ocean to stare at now and then. Don’t you?

Auto-husbandry: the way of the future?

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