Now as I shove the last of my laundry in the wash, and fold up the last of my equipment that went with me to the playa I get whiffs of playa dust that whisk me away a week ago when I was gallivanting with me myself and I, letting the playa wind take me from theme came to art installation and then on to the next spot in deep playa where only the bizarre energies of the playa would determine my fate. So I have been thinking… “Playa” is it a place? Is it a thing? Is it some sort of bizarre sort of idea? Well, yes more or less to all of the above. To me it has become some sort of entity that’s meaning is only know by those who have been there.
So, 10:30 in the morning now, and no I have not been writing this whole time; I’ve been up and down and interrupted for various reasons, but nonetheless, now to the real point (if there even is one). I still have a dusty pile of BM gear down in the driveway that needs to be attended to and disappear until… about this time next year. It is however, a smaller pile than what it was yesterday and even more so the day before. So I think I deserve some props! Yeahhhhh!!! But please tell me, I know I tend to get distracted easily and move a snails pace, but am I the only one who takes an entire week to completely decompress, clean up, and get my things back in their correct homes so I shall continue on grueling the track of default life? Uhhhhhhh!
10:53 in the morning. My friend called and set a hiking date at 2:00 or so this afternoon. This may be the last time she and I will hang out until the quarter is over in mid-December but nevertheless, should be a pleasant aspect of the last hurrah of an action thrilled summer vacation. I also Hope those who actually read this rambling enjoyed each word of it because… I am bound to do it again.