kid joy

Ah, to be young and happy.

Where are you now? Central Asia. Where language began 9,000 years ago.

On a warm Sunday he went to the local Siem Reap java joint to draw, color and share stories with three kid friends. They played "king" wearing Merlin magician pointed hats from a birthday party.

One girl, 6, said, "did you finish your story?" She referred to seeing me last week with a red pen and pile of paper.

Subject to Change manuscript, doing a red line edit. Day by day. In the morning, in a quiet time/place before noon, no distractions, bird by bird, page by page, configuring words, structure, sense and flow. 

"Yes, I finished the story..it will be abandoned with intuition and curiosity."

I made images of them in magic hats, drew on blank paper, drank coffee, smoked, laughed with them and wandered off. See you in the next life.

It's always pure joy w/kids. We are innocent and mad. Trust and play.

He is a calm lunatic in the "fun zone."

Ambition & Betrayal = Greek Tragedy

He hears foreigners process anxieties, fears, strengths (in limited proportions) and listening skills. After dark.

Famous Cambodian cultural saying: I am sorry. Goodbye and good luck to you and your family. Genetic engineering.

Courage.

I am the walrus.

I am a solitary clairvoyant.

Compassionate detachment.

Tai chi watermelon. Slow movement. Circle. Move.

Erupting like a volcano, everything I do is an experiment.

A writer has homework everyday. A writer is a word terrorist. They say what others are afraid to say.

Memory is desire satisfied.

Today your life and destiny are the same.

David Foster Wallace : Fear of fame. Fear of failure. Fear of being ordinary.

What was your original face before your parents were born?

I was born dead and slowly came to life.

I don't seek. I discover.

Mind movies.

Omar Sings the Blues - TLC 82

As if it was yesterday in the long now exploring the Sahara removed from death, chaos, sirens and heavy equipment filtering dust while conducting 3,000 funerals the day after 9/11, Lucky who’d arrived in Morocco by chance, timing and fate having left the states of confusion on September 1, 2001 did not take possession of that towering event.

He suggested to Omar, a Touareg ghostwriter it was about poverty, economics, revenge and fanatical religious beliefs.

Conditioned to survival, bartering and getting the best price with ABC Omar understood. Clearly. “A person cannot drink or eat more than they need.”

Hospitality described 90% of the population with nothing to do. Five million made less than $1.00 a day.

His Touareg tribe migrated from Mali, Southern Algeria and Mauritania. Prior to 1956 six million Touareg lived on nine million square kilometers of desert. Now 7-10,000 internally displaced Touareg lived in the Sahara Occidental.

“Your enemy is my friend,” he said. His tribe conquered and ruled Spain for centuries.

Timing, the secret of everything shifted dynamics and frequencies.

Omar had seen planes above sands of time. He’d seen boring television with screaming commenters selling fear. One size fits all. He considered TV the most insane invention of all time. It was an artificial projection stealing someone’s consciousness.

He didn’t buy the propaganda lies media soft machines tried to sell 24/7.

Towers up. Towers down. Miracles of aviation history were made in Hollywood. Ratings. Reruns. Media and governments increased advertising and defense budgets selling cheap ignorance, fear and terror to blind sheep.

The Language Company

invent a history

Inside laughter she cleaned his ears.

She's young, thin in a crisp white blouse with lipstick and recently married.

Men sweat. Women glow.

Her clean stainless steel tools removed babble, bike horns, whispers, ghost stories, lies, truth, encouraging symbolic metaphors, musical saws describing ice, a little hammer breaking ice.

INVENT A HISTORY

What's your greatest sorrow?

What's your greatest joy?

(Memory)

10 things you love.

10 things you dislike.

Confront your deepest shadow.

Tolerant and open minded. The greatest happiness = acceptance and gratitude.

You are a ghost here.

This is why people stare.

Everyone your age is dead.

everyday is a celebration

A man, wise or a fool must prepare for their end.

Cemetery space, chop wood for a cremation ceremony, white linen cloth, final letters, fixtures and fittings, a guest list. Every day is a celebration .

River. Bell. Bow. Mirror.

Laughter in the tea house. Survivors are happy. One has a secret.

Weaving women.

Everything I do is an experiment.

I am an iceberg.

Want you don't see is fascinating, below the surface.

Composite characters.

People talk about people talking about people.

It's fucking hysterical.