In the wind

Three days in the bay, vague breezes to blow you over bursts, cool nights and beautiful sunsets. The life written about, I find it each day and see the breath taking scenery when I depart modern life.

My boat, even with all its problems has yet to show any signs of weakness. It inspires me to go further beyond the line drawn by our anti-adventure mainstream ethic; I like not knowing whats going to happen. My guitar does too as the songs I write continue to span the full gamut of genre. If I had a studio I could actually product the songs I hear. I will whole heartily settle for six strings aboard a crudely outfitted sailboat. My molodica also provides the sound.

I practicing my breathing I find always it works to make something happen. Strange; fantastic, I know, but I can't ignore that at times when the winds quits, and I gain presents of mind and begin to breathe, the wind starts, not once but yesterday, every time within two or three breaths. Other times the effect is internal, which is a funny concept when everything is one thing; forever and always connected through shear energy, but it releases a feeling a peace and without trying, I smile. So breathing is my yoga, my connection to, ultimately, the sun from which I come.

Evolve light, to shine through any medium, and be seen by any measure. What other than light, what other than energy can claim to be, always it is every was. Cosmic furniture of the antique variety.