Won't you fly with me?

 

This was taken while waiting in the car line before entering the Coachella Music Festival. We were all at a pretty much dead stop for a few hrs, creeping along slower than snails.

We found out that glass wasn't allowed to be brought into the festival so we had to drink an entire 24 case between the five of us. It wasn't too much of a problem, heh [;

 We ended up blasting Michael Jackson and having a good ol' time dancing and making friends with the plethora of eager Coachella attendees also waiting in line.

(I had a dream last night that inspired the title of this post and reminded me of this picture, so I thought it would be an appropriate post even though this photo is two months old)

The good times are killing me

Clockwise: Le arc de triumph, Strasbourg, Switzerland, candles from inside a chapel, Palace de Versaille

These are about three years old from when I went and gallivanted around France and Switzerland for a few weeks. 

This is what the night does to you

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion." 

-Jack Kerouac

What a beautiful mother fucking day it was today

 

 Eureka, CA

It's the seemingly small & insignificant things

Today: Coffee and a decadent salad in the morning at the Co-Op where I met the loveliest little man named Anthony Salinger- it was his 61'st birthday. He briefly told me his story over the klamata olive bread I shared with him. His words have left an ever-lasting impact on me (of which he'll probably never know). We agreed to meet in Paris. Afterwords I cozied up a giant bean bag-esq chair in the Eureka library- cooing my crazy, over-analytical brain and jogging in erratic mental circles. Next I went to the bay to soak up the view and couldn't stop smiling. Started re-experiencing past incidents with the mad homeless persons I find myself getting into loaded conversations with regularly. Generally, I am good at concealing my insanity, but in the past few weeks, it's been more difficult. I've become overly introverted and dependent on my imagination for achieving happiness.

Yesterday: A day out of the ordinary. Started the day off with power-slides on the wooden floor and playing in a cardboard box with my favorite three year old- Rocko. I get paid to watch over him, and every time we have a blast. Afterwords I was all jived up on coffee and the ecstasy of feeling like a child that I came home and blasted Michael Jackson, dancing with myself in my temporary, obscure yet humble room. David came over not long after -fast forwarding now a bit- and we went out for sushi. I've never had such amazing miso soup (it was orange in color). Afterwords we relaxed in the hot tubs at Cafe Mokka. That place is magical; I felt as if I had stepped into another place and time- I can't elaborate on that feeling unfortunately. I left feeling so carefree. Maybe it was the wine. I always have the most wonderful and complex  dreams when I fall asleep inebriated.


More pictures soon kitties.

Some new ones

I got the blues

Pretty soon I'll be able to play like this;