This from 2018, could have been written today. Features dancer, Quentin Robinson from Missoula, MT. I once came across him dancing in the park. I felt lucky, as if I had gotten into a dance performance for free.
And we love you, John Prine
This blog started as a way to stay connected on my solo journey to Baja from Montana a few years ago. I pretty much left it alone after that. Here we are on our solo journeys. We can’t meet for coffee. The title of this blog came from a friend, Marc Moss, as we sat over coffee. My daughter had cut off all communication with me. I was grieving, still am just differently. Choosing joy in spite of grief. My nephew had invited me to come stay at his place in El Pescadero. Fuck it, why not. So I write to not feel totally alone.
I think maybe I’ll post a picture each day with a piece of writing to go along, or I’ll just write as a journal or share a contemplative collage from my daily ritual to stay sane. Or I’ll share a recommendation of what I’m watching on Netflix or the like. Who knows, none of us know much right now. But we still got love.
Best diversion yesterday: Lola called to share that as she was looking out her window she spotted, Sam Elliott walking down her street. There’s that!
A city employee pulled up, posted a sign stating that groups are not allowed, individuals shall remain 6 feet apart. He nodded at me and smiled from 6 feet away.