To Go.

To live each day as if it has been stolen from death. To wake up every morning knowing that the possibilities are infinite, to release myself from the burden of “how” & the anguish that I encounter every day. To grab Ruby & drive to the Sea, to the mountains, to my mother. To raise my voice and shout at the sky “I am alive, I am wonderful, I am free. I AM.

To feel again the roads underneath me, always looking forward at what I can be, not what I was. The past always takes from the present. To again realize the physicality of the world has its boundaries only if my will is weak, only if I am afraid. To again accomplish the things that the normal person would think impossible.

To go. The wheel lightly held in my hands, the windows down & wind cleansing away the past. To wonder in anticipation and excitement what lies around the next corner, over the next crest. To keep going and discover where I end up. Always forward. For a driver, a wanderer, a dreamer, not having these things takes away part of the soul.

I wake up every morning and say “I wish.” I wish I could take myself and Ruby to the Sea, to the mountains. I wish I could get to events & trade shows to show people the things I can make when my hands meet my heart. I wish I could help people get to where they need to go, visit others who can’t go anywhere. I wish I could visit my Birth Mother, and finally get to know the woman who gave me this life. I wish I could make hers better. I wish I could get in my car and just go, leaving the unforgiving brutality of the sidewalks behind me and again follow the wind. Again follow my dreams.

I wish.

I will.

How to Fly

I miss the wildness of the road. The freedom of no schedule, no destination. I miss forgetting the rules of a polite & measured life & remembering how to fly, denying the gravity in my heart.

Everyone needs this. To remember how to fly. To love without fear.

away from and forward


When I quiet my mind, I hear it. Behind the noise of the city, beneath the streets, when I look at the stars, I hear it.

The Enchanted Forest is calling me back, back to find myself again, back to visit the sacred sites, the graves, The Grandmother Tree, the memories of the past and future.

I say The Forest is calling me, but more realistically, it is the road. There is a romance that is generated as the wheels spin, when the destination is unknown, when the city shrinks in the mirror and there is nothing ahead but the night and solitude, the broken white lines and blackness as distance passes by and the future is closer than the past with every passing mile that rolls underneath me.


I need to go. Somewhere, anywhere – just away from and forward to the beauty of the unknown…

stronger than

The appetite is still there. I feel it haunting me, taunting me, poking its head out of the shadows now and again to either laugh at this thing that I’ve let myself become or look at me with sad eyes and wonder where the man with such a passion to play the game has gone.

I know where. It is in the flesh and blood under my fingernails every night, the poisoned blood dripping down my legs, my back, my arms, spreading. It is in the fear that brings, the morphine I need to take, the energy I don’t have.

the fear.

Somehow I need to beat this, as it has taken away who I remember being.

Who I still am – the part of me that is not flesh, or blood, or anything that this sickness can take away. In the mirror, if I look close, there is still a shine in my eyes, behind everything else. I’m still here, and I’m still strong as hell, as strong as I’ve ever been – nevertheless, I need to be stronger.

but it’s fucking hard.

I need to keep going. Need to somehow find the energy to continue with CultureFlux, beat this whateverthefuckitis down and let it know that my will is much stronger than it could ever be. I’ve got things to do, roads to travel, people to meet, know & share. I have thousands upon thousands of words that are waiting to be written, and I have hundreds of stages that I still need to be on…

Yeah, I miss performing like crazy. It’s time to do something about that as well – so many ideas, so many characters that I have floating in my imagination, straining to be let loose…

Gods, so much to fucking DO! …

Tomorrow I go for my first acupuncture treatment since those beautiful, tragic times with Michelle, which I’m looking forward to – I know I must have shitloads of energy blocked, so it should be pretty crazy… then Shadow Circus, and either directly after that or very early in the morning, heading out to Ocean Beach & the archery range. SO nice to have my bow back… hells, maybe after all this time she deserves a name. Why the hell not…

It will be a good weekend.

Maybe I’ll even remember how to write when I get to the Ocean again – it’s been far, far too long…

I’ll need to remember how to do that before I get back on the road, as well.