Bizarre Integrative Feelings In The Air Tonight
There’s a bizarre serenity in the air. Desert Hot Springs. Not far enough in to feel afraid, or to really reflect on the anxiety-ridden trails of childhood, but enough to appreciate being at the top of a hill with two artist soul mates visiting from Austria, ensconced in a beautiful home with a zen garden and natural wood tubs and a host who is Katherine the Great, white haired, wild eyed, chain smoking and alive and a-thrive within her home with high wood beam ceilings that are covered every square inch in her lush oil paintings and assemblages.
I walk outside at nine at night, cocktail in hand, high off the conversations with Hans over his upcoming book that I am writing about his social sculptural project called the Rolling Stone, hours after a woman-to-woman conversation with his life partner about the integrity in being able to make solid decisions rather than just waiting for what life blindly throws at you in the form of inconsequential consequence and armed for tomorrow with my art partner Ryan and a full day of art-attack-itis ahead, and I am blissful. Walking down the street which means walking down a very steep hill, away from our host’s sculptural Buddha gardens full of wasps and bees in friendly fashion who only sting and bite once disturbed in their nests, and I see lights dotted all across the horizon. Peaceful, sedate lights, beckoning of people in their homes, nodding towards bed.
And twenty years ago, I would have been on this same street in a sari with my hippie friend Beth, walking to the grocery store at midnight, hitchhiking for money from strangers to buy hot tamales and good and plentys at the store with the meth freaks and motorheads, unaware that we should have really been scared, immersion being the great equalizer.
And the moon is so beautiful tonight as I turn off my tape recorder, things properly documented for prosperity and my eyes on the road ahead. Beautiful, glistening, beckoning road.