At 24 hour coffeehouse in Santa Monica tonight; today, late morning to sundown, was spent on Venice Beach. Waves washed mind’s musings and channeled chaff away for a while. Seems the noisy spirits went down to play in the surf for a few, then returned to their improper station, pokin’ my brain and tryin’ to make me insane, goddamn little fuckers. Nice don’t cover the sunset’s extraordinary show. Blues beyond azure and reds neon as the lights on Sunset Boulevard (not that I’ve been on Sunset Blvd after dark, but prob’ly seen on TV). I must say, perhaps the most extraordinary sunset I’ve seen o’er the ocean. Culminations of crazy yoga manifesting beautiful scenes, though the fire I’ve worked up and through to see such sunsets . . . the absurdities to muck through to gain such blessed visions been taxing no doubt. Meditation to the crash of waves is a nice respite from the mad and crazy dance and lila seems mostly unspoken whilst manifesting nigh ubiquitously, least when I’m in the public scene and observing. A figure passes or sits near reminds of a friend or lover or other from elsewhere, and even plays out corresponding scenarios or speaks telling indices in the course of dialogue overheard. An energetic arrayal or exchange or other motion passes before my mind’s eye, and perhaps as I respond, people pass by in synchrony to the movements seen, figures considered or conditions represented in my thoughts; a dance inside and out of me, relationship and transformations manifesting, and in concert and consort with Her, as She’s always workin’ in and behind the scenes, playing and blessing and healing.
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