Tag Archives: Carlos Castaneda

The super, blue, blood moon blues

We got up at 4:30 to watch it, but it was all cloudy. “Discreet music,” I guess. So much for January.

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The Death Card | Field notes from the Pacific Coast

This is a series of posts I started in late May and plan to continue for 40 days, with a goal of hitting 50,000 words by July 5. It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington coast, with … Continue reading

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How the wind played us like an instrument that night

The morning feeding ritual at Mike’s, two dogs, two cats, the quiet crunching of animals chewing, a dishwasher churning, the bathroom fan, the soothing sound of it like rain hitting the roof, going down the drain spouts into the ground: … Continue reading

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The French series

COLLIOURE, LANGUEDOC-ROUSSILLON LES BATTERIES 25TH VII 1998 Finally got rid of Sean and Seamus. Sean, my bartender friend from Six Arms but Seamus, some angry Canadian/Irish guy he picked up somewhere along the way in Europe, wears baseball caps with … Continue reading

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Just for us

The moon is hanging on by a nail and we are all bound to fall that way too, to rise in the morning and repeat the same cycle: to expand and recede, sometimes close to Earth, sometimes obscured. They make … Continue reading

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On wood-gathering and storytelling

The trail description said it gained 700 feet, but I didn’t remember it all happening in the first five minutes. I didn’t read the notices at the trailhead or carry a map because it’s just a canyon, one way in, … Continue reading

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You can see why they thought they were spirits

What started off clear became obscured by the cloud’s thickening brow.┬áThe night passed on to dawn, this time we contemplate the dead. And we pass down a darkened lane to the end, past the signs and arrows carved in the … Continue reading

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