skysurfer.media

2002Jan11
Today is grey again, though not in spirit. There is too much to write and not enough time. It’s a business day. – – – Afternoon – – – Now for the practicality of life… I need money. $55 for an application fee to school, money for books, food and most importantly – entertainment. This kind of mundane practical reality is so hard to deal with. I want only to set my spirit free and write so I’ll end this journal entry and look up.

2002Jan10
So I’ve always known that spirits confuse names, or maybe just the mediums mistranslate, but I did not expect Texas to mean Phoenix. I suppose, that with the name significances of this last year (not to mention the particular significance of this trip), that Phoenix was indeed more appropriate than Amarillo to learn the lesson that my life is not all about me. I got stuck in Phoenix long enough to really worry on an otherwise perfect trip. It turns out that it was because the truck that finally picked me up was to be rerouted to Arcata., my final destination. Everything happens for a reason and no, it’s not all about me. Yesterday I arrived home in Humboldt overwhelmed by road weariness and the desire to be with family. Virginia (the person) was there for me, opening her house, extending her friendship and allowing me to end an all-too-old distance between us. She will always be my blue-eyed Cherokee sister.
The weather here is sunny, somewhat odd for Arcata. Yet, in keeping with the theme, the light always breaks through the clouds in the end. Last night Rob was anxious about my arrival, recalling my neediness in the summer past. And I learned that Hikah may be losing the contents of her storage unit (the action is today if it hasn’t been paid). There is nothing I can do to help Hikah, though I know I will see her soon. Today I saw Rob here at the café and tensions lifted when he saw me. I guess that white light is still shining. Meanwhile, I still need a more permanent place to stay. I have to push my way into college. And I need a job, or some way of getting money. I am so glad the Gods are on my side – faith is what this has all been built on…. And it has only just begun. Otherwise, the sky might be dark and I would probably be homeless in the rain….again. No, there is no going back now. I am looking forward to exploring what Arcata has in store for me. I’m home.

2002Jan06
6am coffee. A great nights sleep. Freezing cold outside, but no rain. I left Virginia on Jan. first, around noon. I arrived here on the third. All signs say I should go west today. I’m running out of money. I’m bored. People are starting to talk to me. If I don’t leave today I could get trapped here. It amazes me how I got sucked in just because someone was interested in me. But this is not my home. I have to make it to Humboldt not just to demonstrate faith in myself, but to prove my ability to control my own life. Perhaps that is all this has been about (Ok), that I’ve got to stop being opportunistic. It only leads to self sacrifice. So what’s in California? Or for that matter, between here and there? I don’t know. I can’t know. Even the cards won’t tell me. I guess I have to accept that this is my adventure. Along the way I’m finding that this is my favorite life. We dream the dream, the natives say. It’s time for me to wake up and make it happen. Now I’m beginning to want more than a warm roof and food to eat. I want a house and a car and so much money I don’t have to concern myself with it anymore. Food is a great analogy – that if fear of gluttony brings about starvation, then food is still too high of a priority. What I want to do will take money. I want to write, to take pictures, to feed and house all in need. I believe in the golden rule, but I no longer want to be on the receiving end of do unto others as I only react to the world around me. I want to make a difference. I am a priest, an artist, and a king. So I’m going home to reclaim my kingdom. Humboldt is where I will put down a root, where there is community and I can be most useful.
9:30am Hudi is bored and I have yet to pack. The tarot tells me that I have another stop along the way, another person to meet. It appears that whether I stay to see Kat or not matters little. I’ve left her a note and I intend to hike back to I-40 unless she comes to give me a ride. I will not be staying. Oklahoma is Ok, but my journey must continue. Let the adventure again begin! My kingdom is before me. How I will reclaim it is a mystery. What I am to do will be revealed to me (the Empress).

2002Jan05
This morning brings about the promise of calm in my mind. The storm is subsiding and even the cold outside has eased. Weatherford – another significant name. When I was told that everything would happen for me in Texas, well, I thought I’d never be there…. Next stop, Amarillo. I wonder if this has anything to do with Goldenrod. My situation here is comical, holed up in an apartment with nothing to do but listen to music and write. This is all I wanted when I was in Virginia. Now if I follow the advice I always give to other people I’d have to say ‘everything happens for a reason’. Was it the cold snap outside that I had to ford? Or was it the weather inside that had no conducive environment to be purged on an eighteen wheeler? Some things can only be realized alone. That seems to be what I’m attempting, to realize my life. ‘We make real what the mind can conceive’ was the slogan at a photo lab in Denver. Reality, which I have always touted as superior, is now more elusive than the ever-empty promise of potential – that which I also always loved. This apartment is filled with fantasy and fiction. This is Katrina’s lair where dreams become food for thought, not tools for destruction as they are for my mother – ironic, how she uses her dreams to codependantly counter my father’s self-righteousness. I, the king of non-fiction, have always been threatened by other people’s dreams. But just look at what a dreamer I’ve become! And you, Leticia, are the greatest dream of all. I have just come through Oklahoma City, the midpoint of the country, the point of no return. I cannot go back to you, on my knees, accommodating and submissive. I am a king from the west. How fitting that Amarillo, Texas is the gate to my kingdom, the pan handle. Once I’m in the southwest I’m home free. Free of you? I don’t want to be. I still want to be with you. I wonder what’s going to happen in Texas. Anything? It’s only a hundred and seventy miles from Oklahoma to New Mexico. Maybe I’ll catch a ride to Santa Fe and drive right through it. It’s quite possible that Amarillo will be my first chance to use a phone. I’m hoping Kiersten will say ‘Leticia came to see you’. I want you to miss me, too. Or that Rob will say ‘Leticia called and she’s worried about you’. I’m hoping this so that I can call you and say ‘Don’t worry, but if you miss me then come, let’s be together’. Wouldn’t that be funny, to meet in Amarillo, a place neither one of us wants to be in. Or maybe it’s in Texas that my fantasy of you will be shattered. A South American and a North American, a Catholic and a witch…. How could I ever have thought it possible but for the fact that I’m a dreamer. I even still think in Spanish at times. A psychic, a sister, once told me that there would be two great loves in my life – Lotta. She was the same one who told me that everything would happen in Texas – The first of these loves would be short lived and intense, she said, the second would be life long. She also said that they would be somehow connected, but she did not know how. This was seven years ago, shortly after I first dreamt of you (La Luna, El Muerto). Around the same time, another psychic told of a narrow escape (from Dawn, I presume) and of a love that involved a little girl who both was and was not my daughter. Lotta told me that the great love of my life was a woman with many names, like me.
A friend of mine once said he’d learned that the word ‘alone’ was really a compound word – ‘all one’. I think of this now as I fear isolation and I ponder the truth that all things are connected, that all people are connected. I ponder this as I ponder these words that now gush out ad infinitum as I used to have to wring them out ad nauseum. Thus far in my life I would not have considered myself a writer, though I flirted with the idea at seventeen years old before stepping out of society, after running through all of it’s corridors. This is free writing, not freedom but the search for freedom. What about purpose, voluntad? What can I do with words? My first thought that photography might not be the answer was as I watched the twin towers in N.Y. collapse. I did not want to photograph those people – neither the survivors nor the victims, though the images are to me indelible. I wanted to say something. I wanted to talk to them….to say to the pilots, “What were you thinking!” or to the victims’ families, “Don’t worry, everything will work out.” Hume talks of language only being useful if there’s an audience, a linguistic philosophy of natural language, perhaps. Language is the great connector of people, an agreed upon principle not unlike money or reality. Yet, how can I, Indigo, liberate the masses from the bondage of their own minds with mere words? Who’s going to read them? I know how transient the material world is, and how shallow the mainstream view of reality is, but what transcendental truth can come from my words if no one wants to hear them? And those who are listening, can’t they see the truth as I do all around them? It’s the same as the question of magic: black magic vs. white, love is the law, un ye harm none, etc., etc. My purpose cannot be just to serve myself nor solely to serve others. How can I be a part of the world in such a way that I am most useful? ¡Voluntad! …And still be fulfilled by what I am doing and not sacrificed? The option of quitting is now completely out of the question. And so now I find myself stuck with an outlet that has no audience. God I need to get laid! – Katrina – I was attracted to her strength immediately, though a bit unsure if I would have sex with her even if she wanted it. I was happy just to talk to her. Now words, my outlet without an audience, fall not on deaf ears but on no ears at all and all I can think about is fucking her. I want her to feel me, to listen to me. I want her to make love to me. That will probably never happen. I think I’m too passive for her and, anyway, she’s not here. I had better get out of my head and go west while I still can. Tomorrow, the sixth, is a fortuitous day to travel. Today I learned that the interstate is within walking distance. So, assuming I don’t see Kat and something weird happens, I’ll head toward Amarillo in the morning. Meanwhile, I will savor my bourbon and spend time with my dog listening to music. I have a long journey ahead of me.
[5 pages before noon!]

afternoon/evening

So I’ve met Kat’s friend Becky and it turns out Kat is a lesbian. All this time I thought she was bi because there seemed to be some attraction to me that I must say is mutual. Now Becky confirms that in fact Kat is drawn to me, but if not for sex than what is it she sees? I’m an interesting person? Well, who isn’t? I feel like she’s looking for something and maybe I can give it to her. Still, I’ve made up my mind…. If I don’t see her tonight, I’ll leave in the morning. Later I’ll pack, after another bourbon and yet another good long nap.

Saturn return – it’s about growing up, being humble, waking up from illusion – Leticia says she’s going to throw a big party when it’s over. “Welcome to my saturn return”, she says. Well, for me it’s almost over. I plan to throw a party called “welcome to my seven year integration”. There’s a dual meaning to this: The end of a seven year curse and the beginning of seven years that will be the most fun I’ve ever had culminating in my idea of heaven. What a transition this is!
My desire for freedom is testing my fear of loneliness. I wonder if I must be alone to be happy. I keep thinking that there’s someone out there for me, that I can be my extreme self with a partner. I want a life mate! I used to call Dawn that, but now I understand codependence. Now I wonder if I must choose to be alone – to take that leap of faith before I meet the right person. I’ll have to take the chance that I will always be alone. Will I have to overcome that fear before I can have to magic I crave? Maybe Rosa was right. If I can walk the straight and narrow I will have twenty women. It’s too bad Leticia has ruined me for so many. What have I been thinking! I fell in love with a Catholic and now I’m interested in a lesbian. Katrina is the first since Leticia that I would consider sleeping with – the first I would sleep with. There was Evelyn, but I understand that for what it was. Pure compassion. Great! …. The weather report says rain tonight. Why is God fucking with me? Why can’t I just have all the world at my fingertips right now?! Or do I? Is the bigger question ‘What do I want’? Well, I want Leticia but I can’t have her because she doesn’t want me. And if not for other people there is not much I want. Just a warm place to stay and food to eat is enough. Should I want all the riches in the world? Rosa says money is important. I don’t disagree, but I think money should never be the most important thing in life. This is significant to me because I have to concentrate my attention on something to achieve it. How shall I integrate the need for spiritual and material things? Certainly God does not differentiate. I always get food and a roof. I even get tobacco and alcohol, my subconscious demands. What I need, I think, is a clear focus on what I’m doing. The resources always find me. I have faith that God is on my side. Magic, yes, I am powerful – more so than most…. And now I need a purpose. Amazing! My lessons are over, or at least my primary education. Now what will I do? I answered this question to Leticia saying “I’m going home!”, but what for? To figure out what I’m going to do? I know my purpose is not place specific, but universal. Dear God, listen to me ramble! – Time for a cigarette…. And another nap…. OK 1:30am Katrina’s not here. Why am I surprised? I hope it’s not raining in the morning. I’m wiped out from writing and drinking so I’m having a beer and a last cigarette and I’ll pack in the morning. I’m sure I’ll wake up early.

2002Jan04
Katrina’s
[Oklahoma]

Ironic how I find solace in words now when they only used to taunt me. I suppose part of it is pure boredom. I could be nearing California by now, though I would be road weary. Instead I am nearing the core of my heart, world weary and drinking bourbon which I can’t afford. There’s something about Katrina. She doesn’t know she wasn’t the first to offer me a ride at that freeway ramp, but I could see her strength and I needed that. Now I see that she doesn’t feel strong and I understand that. She doesn’t know how I hate to be left alone, rather, that I hate having to be alone, isolated. And yet, I’m not feeling abandoned, just bored. I feel at home here, but not enough to paint the walls. She says Katrina means ‘pure one’. She doesn’t know about Louveena which means ‘to purify’. She was the witch I befriended on my way to Virginia. Would I not have been pure enough to meet her before Louveena, or does Katrina mark the end of my purification? Her interest in witchcraft fascinates me and I wonder if she knows she is a witch, or that magic isn’t just something you do on a full moon. I could talk to her for hours about anything. I just can’t talk to myself anymore.

2002Jan02
[date +/- two days]

What is this?
A curse of chosen loneliness? Are these words that ooze from the tip of my pen truly more powerful than a weapon of water? They say the chase is more fun than the kill, but I think the best moment is after the chase is over – just before you sink your teeth in – when you know you’ve got it. Like the anticipation of sex during foreplay I savour my unfulfilled desires. Perhaps I’m seducing my own emotion with fire on the horizon, sated by the wind that feeds the flames and also brings the rain. When will words be enough to release me from this solitude…. An orgasmic spell, indeed.

Crazy?
You called me ill when I was sad. I had thought you cared. Yes, I said, I was lovesick. My choice, you said, that I could be happy if I wanted. True. I know that now. And I see that Krishna is still playing, though you called him crazy. And I, Shiva, am still alone.

What is craziness?
I have seen the grossest failing of the human mind – the brain’s ability. What a simple arrogance it is that anyone thinks they know anything. The brain must function on fear, piecing together little bits of the unknown to form a perfectly logical conclusion, as if to say “I’m stumped!” is a plea of insanity. I’ll tell you what’s crazy is anything that makes sense on paper – even this, if in fact that makes sense to you.

This is crazy.
I need to use my brain so badly that there’s nothing left to do but let it spill out all over the paper. It makes more of a mess when I try to live my life with it. With so many failed attempts at success and so many witnessed miracles, I’ve become a strong believer in fate, destiny, and the like. It’s not that I believe in being passive, just that I don’t have another outlet for these thoughts that are beyond the grasp of most people. What I’ve seen and done sets me apart – too far apart.

And as my illusion crumbled, my life became a trial by fire.

2001Aug15
My thoughts are consumed by Leticia. My heart reaches out for her and the connection I feel to Alina is indescribable. I want to be her father, her teacher, her friend. Still, Leticia is her mother and must be the only person whole in herself. I hope Leticia has talked to her mother. I am glad I have spoken to mine. I pray for them all. And I wish and I beg God for the honor to be a part of her life – her; my daughter, my wife, my mother – the goddess I see in Leticia, my shakti.

[next page]

What do I want? Leticia, Alina, family. So much has happened and still the image of my love is indelible, etched on my soul. I can stay here in Humboldt my whole life if I want but my only reason to be here is that I may see Leticia again. I pray for Alina and I wonder if she will ever know that I will always be there for her. I have had some hard lessons. Are they over? Have I finally died my last death? I am so impatient. I starved myself of happiness so that I could understand it. Now that I have found it as ordained by God it is the single most important reason to be alive. “What do you do for a living?” I show God’s love and he takes care of me. It pays well.

2001Jul29
[approximate date continued]

And there my moon sank into the morning fog, elegantly and beautifully, and in the west rose my Shiva, the fire within me. The moon, she left a trail of yellow, red, then purple. But as her hue faded there was the sun emitting those same colors, one after the other through cracks in the veil of distant clouds. And when his majesty was fully realized the Lord gave me a white rainbow.

The fog-filled valleys became oceans of mist with waves gently extended from the surface and sprays of slowly moving mist. Dissipating, the sea rolled up the mountain going faster and faster. First it teased us with little gems of light sweeping past our eyes. Then, as by surprise we became engulfed, enrapt in the cloud.

[next page]

A secret love? My feelings, they run too deep to express! I want to show the world the completeness, the perfection, of real love. My sadness has a name, but even that has little meaning to anyone else. My bliss, or joy, could be the part of a thousand holy books that still would not do it justice. Can photographing extravagant people really capture their soul? One can only glimpse the photographer’s full intent. Or the poet; Isn’t poetry ‘good’ when it is deeper than the comprehension of the reader?

2001Jul22
Today the miracle continues. I am moved by the grace of God as I stand in awe of the beauty around me. And there is magic everywhere I go.

2001Jul21

Secrets of the Blues Revealed

I, IV, & V, rhythm and soul is all it takes to play the blues. What I want to talk about here is the soul. Sadness, loss, grief, and pain are such powerful things that they carry the potential to destroy one’s spirit. How wonderful life would be without them! And how terrible life is when we run and hide, stress and struggle. Why even write about these things? Hmmm…. Can you accept that here in this life suffering is unavoidable? Is it? Who told you that bad things must make your heart heavy? We cannot change our emotions. We try to change who we are, but that is futile. So here is the secret – face your problems. Accept them. They will not go away, but you will discover a secret. They no longer have power over you. There is sadness but there’s no reason to cry when you can sing. The power of your soul can chase the shadows back into the darkness. Laugh at the darkness in celebration but do not mock it, do not feed it. Just dance. Dance and play. Play and you may just find the power of the blues is true happiness.

I have experienced the miracle of love. Now my life will be forever changed. Yesterday I questioned the permanence of such a beautiful, blissful gift. Today it is apparent. Psilocybe Cubensis has affected a permanent, solid, forever change. Psychedelics only appear to have transient affects – that is the illusion. What is stirred by them is real…. And only seemingly out of one’s control. My life is now full of love and magic. This is what I wanted though I was unaware of myself. My fear, my sorrow was so strong that I could not love more than I needed. That is the miracle. Not that I let go of my neediness, but that I learned to love with reckless abandon. I found my capacity to love unconditionally. The world around me reflects this as if I am acknowledged by God I know my needs will be fulfilled so long as I can accept that life is a miracle, that I am a miracle, and that love is ever present. The only failure is a choice to reject God, a choice I can no longer make. The light within now shines through. I will not turn back.
[next page]
Leticia,
I have learned so much in these last days. With you I learned to love again though my sorrow had eaten away at my heart, made me hungry for love. You showed me your soul and my love pushed through my sadness and I reached out for you. So when we held each other and cried I felt complete. We were loving each other. Now I know that the letter I had to write is this one. Thank you for restoring my faith in love. I will never forget that.