i've been feeling really off this week. in a foggy headed and detached way. there could be a physical explanation (sinuses, ears). i'll see a doctor on monday. it's a weird altered perception i'm having. the observer rather than the participant. like i'm outside myself–hearing myself speak, watching myself move. when i'm not feeling anxious about feeling this way, it's actually quite interesting. but i don't have much else to say about it now. i'm hoping to connect with something insightful, though i'm a little afraid that it might be something i'm not ready to face. for now, anything solid i try to attach as an explanation feels fabricated and forced, spun of my desire to have something to share here. but this is what's real right now. feet on the ground, head in the sky. noticing everything and trying to be in the flow of it all. keeping on. catching thoughts and letting them go. catch…release…catch…release…release…release…

 

can't force wit, insight or brilliance. can't strong-arm romance, creation or miracles. can't make a moment of clarity happen, can't out-think divinity.

two kids and a mom cruise to the city of angels on a fine spring tuesday. no traffic. kid robot and vintage on melrose. fontina with dried fig at the farmer's market. celebrity sightings, cheap clothes and old postcards with paintings of pomegranates. franz west, warhol and koons' bright metallic blue giant balloon animal at LACMA (and children who say "I love museums!"). tar pits and tall escalators. lemon coconut cupcakes and the short time in the year when the valley hills are verdant green. breezy sea grass, sunshine glitter on the ocean, NPR on the radio and that good kind of tired.

 wanderlust satisfied for another day…