i am sad to leave this misty haven and its gentle, fierce pirate-folk. i've learned so many lessons this summer, some of them ones ive been learning over and over again for a long time. . . it was difficult at times, and it was joyous
things i will caryy with me: my 28th, saturn return party, at the saturn sign: complete with wheel-barrow rides, jugglers, hoola hoops and hobo songs.
long afternoons on millicheap beach, reveling in the mosses and lichens and seaweeds, rubbing my hands over madrones and breathing deep, smelling deep. naked in the ocean, salt water carressing and tingling on my skin.
bike rides home in the dark, glasses fogging up, headlamp faltering, laughing and terrified about going over the edge!
a soggy bottom farm, a wee cabin on stilts, a leaky tent, an all-night dance in the rain with phosphorescence.
making homes of mud, sculpting possibilities out of the earth.
stirring warm flour and pigments with my hands, smearing fresh manure on walls, hammering-hammering-handsawing-hammering. hauling rocks, hauling buckets of water.
insane driftwood runs! 8 people rolling a huge log up the beach and carrying it, maneuvering it into the back of a truck. clowns and artists and dancers. off-the-grid, car-free, everyone so fiercely independent yet with a sense of community.
a lingering illness that tired me out but made me realize how important my health is and how important it is to slow down and take care of myself.
i know my time here is not done. i am a vagabond at heart and so i leave, but i will someday return . . .
"i am on a lonely road and i am travelling, travelling, travelling. looking for something, what can it be?" love to the isle and all its kin. . .
The Rock april-september, 2007.