Improvisation

I am a calm lunatic.

Edited a hard copy of Ice Girl in Banlung.

Everything is a meditation - eating, sleeping, sexing.

Hungry girls go to bed. Women pay small. Men pay big.

Sex is a job. Raising kids is a duty.

An adventure in emotional distance with wisdom mind.

The big general picture (or) specific, concrete, precise details to see character.

"Information on life and hope" at a wat.

Popular lyrics "I am sorry."

A character's viewpoint on their experience. Internal monologue.

Intuitive improvisation is the mark of genius.

Projections of our own faults and weaknesses. Fear and disgust.

Discernment = spiritual power

Journalistic fiction.

The mercy of social revolution.

The mercy of social insight.

Exiting - writing, photography, travel.

After all the gadgets, electronics, "consumption".

Bill Evans - find, establish the simple point, the center. Start with the solid. Then expand.

Melody, harmony, rhythm.

Jazz improvisation (core)

I am a short story.

You are a novel. 

International poetry day

My blind massage.

Strength - points of muscular reference.

Left eye is glazed blue.

In broken hearted silence

A yellow butterfly approached white night fragrance.

Live the questions.

The world is the stage and we are but the players.

See with soft eyes.

You're led to believe a lie

When you see WITH not THROUGH your eyes.

Saved by singing. The heart's compass.

The spirit of the universe.

stir your bones

Ride Mystery every morning. The joy of dirt, red mud, dust. Explore terrain. Essential.

Remember the future.

Today is a burning body in cement block. Orange and yellow and blue.

She made 70. The wat zone, solemn nephew. She had a long life.

Many crypts. Tall trees, heat, fire, add more logs...rising waves of amok below pillars.

Stir bones.

Pedal on in silence. Know the end.

Discover a village inside a village.

Market women find onions, veggies, conversations. I take java. Ice. Shaded trees whisper. Raksa is 14, in the 6th. We bike together on Sunday.

Connections sit in shadows as her sister and mother wash dishes, doing kind and gentle English.

Market zone is a precise poem. The golden thread.

Plasma IV walks down the street with an old man.

Cold

Logical

Detached

Travel Makes You

My body is a living work of art.

It's for sale but it ain't cheap.

Food is an important part of a balanced diet.

Have ink will flow. Travel makes you.

All the mad ones burning like stars,

Flames of passion and suffering

Savor a visual glance toward endless speculation.

Walk slowly.

desperation calls

Muesli, fruit, yogurt.

Desperation called 18 times during the day asking, Why, What changed your attitude toward me, How did you arrive at this heart breaking conclusion to release me, to reduce my sense of responsibility and neglect burning ashes of regret?

Calm thought about Desperation's plight.

Release and letting go of passion, desire, and expectations requires a serenity, clear focus, unconditional love.

Everything dies.

All is dancing behind your tears, your questions.

Be still.

Sit with your sensations, perceptions.

Breathe deep in-out.

Her return. Small talk about respect and responsibility.