Holy gamolies...on closer inspection it has become obvious to me that my frikkin profile sounded so bloody arse sanctimonious--filled with New Age crapola and saccharine pablum fit only for newborns or those of us who misplaced our dentures.
Like you, I haven't told you any of the garbage about myself. I guess it's just that there is about the same amount of dirt on me as there is on you--so unless you can find reasons to really want to be a meaningful friend to me (which includes an honest amount of dialogue), I'm not going to endulge your voyeuristic tendencies by telling you what's *really* going on in my cranium. Face it: even if I *were* to go on and on and on about how wonderfully enlightened I am, it would do nothing to help the overall picture of our species' evolution.
On to the pablum.
I'd love nothing more right now than to be in a position to be able to make and eat food from plants I've grown, which, in turn, came from seeds collected from plants I've grown.
I write and play music using piano, flute, hammered dulcimer, didgeridu, synthesizers, and found sound. The natural world is where I connect deeply, both in my little garden and in wilderness. I abhor the testosterone-poisoned consumer-diven "reality" that mankind has foisted upon this blessed planet.
