we just got back yesterday from four amazingly-relaxing days up at valley view, our hot spring oasis in colorado's expansive san luis valley. i spent most of my birthday driving back and then we went out to eat at india house, where they brought me ice cream and mango sauce with a little candle in it whilst an obnoxious woman behind us regaled everyone within earshot about her famous artist friend who had a past-life regression and realized he was none other than Henri de Toulouse Lautrec in another life! isn't that fascinating? i suppose it was as good of a welcome back to santa fe as any. being in the mountains, not paying any attention to time, along with napping, dog hikes, hot spring soakage and lots of yummy meals can make you forget the finer points of micro-metropolis living...
i've uploaded new PAINTING THINGYS and am quite pleased at the way this batch turned out. also updated several portions of my websites and just watched american beauty in our bedperch. probably the fifth or sixth time i've seen it and hot damn is alan ball the sh*t or what?
An excerpt from a recent forwarded email (usually the bane of my inbox) attributed to George Carlin:
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life.
We've added years to life not life to years.
We'vebeen all the way to the moon and back, but have
trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor.
We conquered outer space but not inner space.
it's well-documented culturally but still rings true: our comedians have become the sources for things that are actually real. i've never been a carlin freak, but i'm glad he's out there, and i usually like what he has to say. the whole premise of stand-up comedy rarely does much for me, though folks like rick reynolds, lenny bruce and bill hicks convince me there's always exceptions to any formula.
it's finally feeling like winter in the fe: i think it was below 30 all day today. we didn't see it come down as we got in late friday night, but when lesley stepped outside our cabin door in bare feet for what she thought was going to be a routine, late-night pit stop, i was awakened soon thereafter with a muted excitement (dan was sleeping next door) that could only mean the ground was covered with white. we went for a walk after the sun came out, did our final sauna/hot tub visits and left around 11:30 for the villa grove restaurant five miles up the highway where we always stop in hopes they'll be well-stocked with banana creme pie. i wasn't even that upset they were out, as all the healthy eating we'd beed up to all week pointed to little more than a few hedonistic minutes of sugarpleasure followed by a big crash. the cherry pie we used as a subsititute only confirmed this.
so anyway, we got to spend time with dan and lesley's old pal ceci came by from crested butte and we had our dogs too, so the cabin was a bit tight, especially with les and ceci trying a gob of contact yoga on the little floorspace we had. i was apprehensive about bringing the doggles, but they were so good and i was so proud of them. the day before thanksgiving was a little rough due to a negative experience with something i ate, but i pulled out of it and still remember the visual i had: i was sitting on a rock all alone; les and the dogs and dan were far ahead and were going to go to the top and come back for me (i was too weak to match their pace) i felt this green lightning bolt surge from the rock and up my spine and through my head. all of a sudden i was a floating copper bulb of consciousness in a pulsing, tapioca-like sea of other bulb-heads. i realized i merely needed to find my bulb and maintain the connection from it to my earth-bound body, and that this was so obvious and old-feeling it was utterly familiar and alien at the same time.
