Paris becomes a shadow echo, fading into the light of the moment, gently blowing off like grains of sand...
carried away to become another surface on some other form...
sweet memories of these last 4 weeks will always have a home in my heart, living with a thousand other red pulsating smiles...
and now New Jersey:
...back in the maze of boxes that contain the past..
-piggybanked the one that holds all my sketchbooks from 2001 till now...
looking for old notes on places to go in India ...
-I find them, and all the history that has been sandwitched
between then and now...
-beautiful and strange doodles,
depressing and uplifting journal entries.
ideas completed and those yet to be fulfilled...
-and the India info which has been slumbering, fermenting, hibernating till now..
Internet research reveals glimpses of intoxicating shattered rainbows,
..the land of holy cows fertilizes my creative soil
new idea seeds take imaginary form
future sun shines
lead to bloom,
expansion,
sharing,
and
mystery.
and the moon....
and the company she keeps
how I've missed my old star friends that live far from the lights of big cities...
how my soul thirsts to drink them in by the millions.
little suns,
feeding flowers
in the dark.
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u know, the grain of sand because of its considerable hardness, is resistant to weathering...
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