The epic poem is brewing…

The epic poem is brewing…

Very little changes. And yet everything keeps going forward. Your presence is not necessary. That’s the way of the world. Be happy. Back in Austin! It’s like I’ve never left, well, except that I live in an RV now. Finding places to park at night is going to be an issue for a few weeks, until I can afford to anchor the Rollin Chateau at an RV park. In the mean time, I am working on a feature article (to be published this spring), and I’m reading a lot. I’m really itching to work on my book of poems… soon! By next month, my little bohemian life should be somewhat stabilized, as long as I can find somewhere to park my rig with at least one electrical outlet… you know, enough to brew some coffee, heat up a can of soup, and keep the beer cold… Tuesday, I stopped in at my favorite bookstore. Malvern Books on 29th street. I tell you what, I’ve travelled close to 6500 miles just recently—don’t know if you’ve heard—and I stopped at every book peddler I could find along the way. Malvern Books is, as far as I can tell, the best bookstore this side of the Mississippi. I bought their last copy of Vale Hale, by H.D. It’s part of a cool new series of chap-books by New Direction Publishing (read up on them here in The New Yorker… great article that proves the bottom line shouldn’t be the only worry of great publishers, publishing great works of literature should be the number one goal of ANY publishing company… anyway…). XXIX I...
Choices, things learnt, and adventures…

Choices, things learnt, and adventures…

On October 15th of 2015, I took off in my little RV for a grand adventure. I had all these huge plans and dreams—as I always do whenever I start something new—and in the end, I didn’t achieve a lot of what I set out to do, and somehow managed to experience a great deal more than I had imagined; for this reason, this trip was an absolute success with many small failures throughout. The world is good… though mostly it keeps revolving around the sun without batting an eyelash at what I do, don’t do, achieve, don’t achieve, and so on… and that, is how it should be. “If you have the guts to follow the risk, however, life opens, opens, opens up all along the line. I’m not superstitious, but I do believe in spiritual magic, you might say. I feel that if one follows what I call one’s “bliss”—the thing that really gets you deep in the gut and that you feel is your life—doors will open up. They do! They have in my life and they have in many lives that I know of.” (page 24 An Open Life: Joseph Campbell in conversation with Michael Toms selected and edited by John M. Maher and Dennie Briggs, First Perennial Library 1990) I picked up An Open Life in a tiny second-hand bookstore in Santa Fe called Big Star Books & Music on Garfield St. just across from the Santa Fe Depot. The first time I went in there, I bought Turtle Island, by Gary Snyder. This second time around, I was sitting in the Mythology section....
Saltimbanque

Saltimbanque

On the road again… it feels like the road is the only place I’ve ever been. The mind plays tricks on you, or at least my mind plays tricks on me, and I forget that I’ve lived other places, done other things, and lived other lives. I forget. I get confused. I’ll be sitting in my RV looking out the window, parked at some random rest stop along a long highway, or I’ll be parked on a parking lot, packed dirt for several acres, listening to the wind grind the desert floor… and I’ll get to believing I’ve never been anywhere else. That this here today is my life as it always has been. Nothing new. Nothing old. Nothing but this air we’re breathing, and time standing still. Then I’ll intervene in my own daydreaming, forcing myself to ask myself and the emptiness in front of me this simple question that I’ve yet to be able to answer: What the hell is going on? It’s a good life we live, for the most part, most of us, most of you reading this post. It’s good to take a moment every day to sit down, or stand up looking at yourself in the mirror if that’s your thing, it’s not really mine, but to just shut up for a second, and to take everything down and look at it all…  smile at how lovely it all is… This morning I found out that a friend of mine passed away yesterday, and I was sad. I still am. He was a good man, and he lived selflessly for his friends and...