The heat from Kansas is now gone and the cool mountain air is big relief.
I am Aspen-bound, highly caffenated, hawk- eyed, and eternally curious about this massive country which you can never really put your finger on and say it’s Took a motorbike on highway 7 from Lawrence, Kansas, to Topeka.
It’s a snapshot of a village with a underlying current of delicate madness.
We smoked a biddy together in the hinterland of Kenya. He gave me a finely wound wooden necklace, looked into my eyes and told me “Don’t forget”.
I’m off now to visit my favorite crop artist , Stan, and talk about some of the latest crop circles from this year.
Had a funny performance last week- I was wondering for quite a while how I could raise the pitch of my didjereedo and then it suddenly dawned on me- a chainsaw!
I don’t know how he did it but this man had left his body and managed to return with the visions and put them to canvas. ’ In the Eastern tradition they never utter a word about themselves.
There is something about this work that has held me for years on end in awe. Are they passing into a tunnel of light or is it an all-seeing eye? The person is totally absorbed into God, Nature, Time; finding himself in everything; discovering everything in himself.
I imagine the pundits to be seated comfortably on think carpets or flax weaving.
One of my heroes in the ultra running world is Anton Krupicka who is a bit of a cross between Jesus and a supple alpine cat who regularly cleans up on the 50 and 100 mile trail courses.
It is the beginning of Ramadan and my personal pilgrimage meant running his main training summit close to Boulder: Green mountain summit.
The music reminds me a little of Roscoe, I think I posted him before- one of my favs from this mothership- I blogged the Stelzenfestspiele in brief last week because it is difficult to describe this place in words.
MDR television made a portrait this time round and it’s online here.