One Month In Los Angeles.

I want a floating, shifting, ever-changing persona
detachment from the ego and all of its pursuits
--King Missile, 1980-something?

I did Food Not Bombs on Thursday with the Social Justice Alliance. I didn't feel homeless, being on the other side of that table, playing old gospel hymns on the guitar for one of the old black ladies who was sittin' out on the Promenade.

It was not like Burlington or Arcata - my place in the interaction, that is. Vermont gave me away - the backpack and the scruffy beard was all I needed to say, and I somehow was in the club. All I'm saying is that I was not straddling the two worlds as I am now, living a normal, over-productive life, yet with no true home base.

Everything is in pretty clear cut perspective from this vantage point - what I need, what I truly desire, where I want to go, and where I don't. I've stopped saying "I don't know what I'm doing in two years." Now I say, "I want to design the sustainability movement. I want to circumnavigate the globe with one more beautiful soul by my side. I'm moving in with my sister at the end of next year in Berkeley. I need a laptop computer. I might walk across the country to support the cause."

Pretty sweet path for the next three years if you ask me.

Am I getting out of my box socially? Well, it helps not to have a box.

Getting a new place is almost like a crab molting its shell. The new has some aspects of the old, yet is fundamentally different - an adaptation to changing circumstances.

Isn't it beautiful that as humans we can share shells?

Ramble ramble ramble...