sleep

i am blurry eyed. i didn't sleep. it's all i could do to focus on the plughole when cleaning my teeth this morning, before commencing a day of being able beyond my means. i don't know what kept me awake. i had insomnia for years, but haven't suffered for a while until last night. it was a fizzing night of restlessness that had me imagining ghosts and nonsense in the sounds outside my window. not fearful ghosts you understand - just history of intent - the echos of the men who carved this hill, who cut the road that leads up to this place. the stars were incredible last night. new zealand has sweet stella activity. i watched a satellite for a while - it moved like beauty itself across the southern hemisphere. someone will be able to watch football now - someone will make a phone call, someone will be able to gather intelligence before a bombing raid. today i am not able. i am not focused. i am going from one thing to the next, nicking my fingers and burning my tongue. it's time to relax or make tea.

pass

i missed walking on pavements in america. they use cars more and don't pace the streets, as much as folk do in other countries. imagine you're walking along a pavement and someone, a stranger is coming toward you, you stride left to avoid a collision, but they head the same way. you both hesitate and step to the opposite side, simultaneously. then back, and sometimes back again, as if you're trying to waltz your way around one another. you smile at one another and you've made a connection. those are the moments in life that gently thrill. i missed that; the awkwardly innocent human exchanges.

truth

the dream was on a loop. every night i walked beside an elephant, a small round indian elephant. through jungles or on dirt tracks, we paced together as friends. during the days the dream continued to play and it seemed that i would see elephants everywhere. in carvings, on signs, in writings or in the clouds; elephants. i wondered what it meant. i asked a friend who informed me that the elephant was simply my truth. 'very powerful answer' i thought. 'but it's an answer that means nothing' i went to the zoo and sketched the elephants, everything about them. the details of their long eyelashes, the creases behind their knees, the wire wool of their tails. for six weeks this owned me. then the dreams stopped, but still i wonder; what did the elephants mean?

place

sometimes you can find yourself in exactly the right place at the right time and be utterly aware of your reality, being crisp and definite and good. more often we forget the moment and place that we inhabit. we get caught up in projections, perceptions and worrying about the probabilities of life. we work out percentages, consider risks and invent worries to hinder progress. as soon as we let all of that stuff go, loosen the grip on what we had planned, we can actually start to live. you soon realise that you're not lost; you're simply in a place that you hadn't planned on. usually when you're there, in that place, at that time, is when the universe starts to grin all about you. i, myself, am lost pretty much every day.

cash

a meat packer in southern california lost both an arm and a leg in a weird industrial accident. doctors were able to save the limbs, but at a cost. without sufficient medical insurance the man's family resorted to extreme measures. they donated kidneys and lungs for transplant, and with the cash they raised, helped the man back to health. a year later, almost fully recovered, the man would discover that he had won the lottery. he hid the money from his family and built a subterranean house in the desert near santa fe, where he would live with a 16 year old girl who looked like frida kahlo with a glass eye.

peace

i own a pair of german army para-boots. i would once wear nothing else on my feet but these boots. for a period of six years i would buy a new pair every year and wear them every day. saying goodbye to the old pair like a friend, whilst actually storing them all beneath my bed 'just in case'. shine them up and they hold the deepest black polish and they become smart enough to get into any fine establishment you wish. scuff them up you can frequent any back street bar. cover them in wax and you can walk through water with no fear. i love a universe that homes so many pacifists and peace activists clothing themselves in army surplus. (i am a pacifist but very rarely active) i see them though, on tv and on the occaisonal march i've joined, naively thinking enough people can stop an illegal, oily invasion. activists wrapped in warm camo-gear and sensible boots. sometimes i think the revolutionaries of the world just dress better than those of us sitting at home watching tv or quietly reading.

roads

on the same stretch of road that james dean died on (many years before) i saw a women roll her car, tail over nose. she was in an suv. a table fell from a truck in front of her car, landed upright on the road as she approached. i'd heard that suv's were prone to rolling, but i hadn't ever expected to see high-speed, slow-mo proof anywhere but on tv. time slowed down as i saw her face flipping and rolling towards me in the oncoming traffic. sometimes, when i close my eyes at night i can still see this happening. she came to a dusty rest in the ditch at the side of the road, and climbed out, relatively unscathed. i would have hated it if she was scathed. further up the road i bought a bag of salted nuts from a mexican who spoke no english. he seemed exhausted, and a little eager to sell more nuts than i was prepared to buy. there's only so many nuts you can eat. later in the day i would take a wrong turn and pass fields of cattle, black as ash, in sun bleached yellow grass. i wrote to a friend 'if there was a god in this landscape of peasants, drama and colour, it would be van gogh.' later that night, eating bean tacos in a hotel bar i saw a man with only one ear. he was drunk on magaritas.