…of the night. I find myself typing at the computer. I have been stung by memory in the last few hours. Friends from the past surfacing in different ways. I am reminded of the good and the bad times and how these moments frame the present in the bittersweet forgotten rhythm. All of this is good. I get to have a look at the road I have taken and the continued healing into the moment. All I can do is just breath into the acceptance of the past and all the misses and the gains that occured and move in…..deeper…closer to home…return to the Source. No matter how deep I fall into forgetfulness…somewhere in there is the reminder…the gift….gracias por todo.
Sweet, you know you were becoming well known in NY? White Chalk was reviewed in the Voice and the Times according to my mama. On 2 occasions I was chased down the street by strange men who wanted my autograph, they had seen our performance. I ran from them at first and they called my name so I gave my autograph and went on with my “performance art”, I had a huge ball of string with me and was trailing it from 9th and Hudson to 71st and Central Park West…. Sex, Drugs and Punk Rock! I love the memories and I love you.
breathe es correcto