Ash's images

Greetings,

Ash has released images of salvation after the volcanic burst of energy.

Millions of humans have never seen an airplane. They've heard it's a very large metal container filled with hot air and nervous humans packed like peasants on a bus in Asia.

They've heard it consumes massive amounts of fuel during the nerve racking period of time called take off when it must achieve a land speed of approximately 150-180 miles per hour. After take off pilots must quickly fly through seven sectors to reach cruising altitude around 33,000 feet. This requires a tremendous amount of fuel. 

Using all the fuel to get up, get off and get going explains why planes fly fast at 33,000 feet. They are now gliding on thermal currents caused by exploding Icelandic volcanoes. It's a cause and effect ratio.

Do a risk assessment. Scientists do not have ALL the answers. They have determined humans cause global warming. They cannot determine the density, volume, location or effects of Ash. Ash is real mystery. It's all hypothetical speculation. 

You are an experienced international long haul pilot. You ask yourself. "Is it better to be on the ground wishing you were in the air or in the air wishing you were on the ground?"

Fly now pay later? Sit it out? File for legal resident status? Ask to be adopted? Immigrate? Stay another day?

Millions of stranded tourists file a claim with the United Nations for reparations from Iceland for:

inconvenience 
misery
lost employment
insufficient scientific data
terrible high fat, high sodium airport food
lousy sleeping arrangements
expensive mood altering medicine
missing spouse
messy divorce
trial separation
lost children
lost sense of humor
family counseling for long term emotional post-tramatic stress disorder  

Start walking. Carry a map, extra water, energy bars, a towel and sturdy walking stick.

Metta.

Headroom in coach. 

A Chinese ticket agent.

 

A departure lounge refugee.

Business class passengers.

Grounded somewhere over the rainbow.

Ash fallout

Greetings,

As hostage travelers get a grip and get a life discovering the diverse thrills of living in airports, bus and train stations along life's tortuous path Ash flies merrily along, singing a song, Blow Wind Blow.

Humans are learning how to mill around. They are learning how to adapt, adjust and evolve in situations and consequences outside their control. Many practice meditation. They know that suffering is an illusion. They make new international friends in transportation hubs. They learn how to share. Some are grateful. They get married, have kids, get divorced and attend correspondence schools in transit lounges. Some mature. A few are beginning to understand that air travel is not so exciting. After all.

The soul travels at the speed of a camel. Walking is the way.

Such a terrible hard unpleasant fact. Life goes on. Nature loves the drama. Especially at the expense of humans. 

Comments from the ground echo through thin atmosphere. Ash is all ears. 

It's a crying shame how Nature does this to us. 
It's all about money and greed, citing airline, hotel and food suppliers. It's about supply and demand. It's about taking advantage of the situation. It's about PROFIT.
People scream, "I hate the government." People cry, "I want my government to save me, to get me home, to get me out of this horrible mess."

Artists slow down and create masterpieces.
Sue Iceland.
Throw all the bankers into the volcano.

Sam, an African farmer from Kenya believe it, drinks a Bloody Merry in Asia and yaks on his cell phone to friends about his boat and how difficult it is here to live and get decent food and how he's not REALLY interested in the 19-year old bar girls.

He is surrounded by smelly containers filled with rotting fruit and wilting flowers destined for white rich folks in Europa, a brand of Confusion. He leaves messages on answering machines. He orders another bloody drink.

Old frail Sam wobbles away on thin legs thinking, "I don't get home until the 3rd. I'm going to die before I see my boat."

He's one of those terribly sad rich men reading the fine print, NO EXIT. Lost and alone he strums his sad guitar. "I look at the world and see it is sleeping while my guitar gently weeps." Ash understands with empathy. Empathy is a circle. 

The reality on the ground is that international travelers are not starving. They are not homeless. They are not begging in the streets. They are not whining, sniveling idiots. No. They are learning a hard fast lesson about the vagaries of travel. They are learning why it is important to always have a supply of energy bars and a towel.

Lost and alone in a vast empty Departure area is a little girl in a white dress. She wears bright red shoes. She clicks her heels together three times and says, "I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home."

Fly the friendly skies. They call it ADVENTURE TRAVEL. 

Metta.

Gypsy Ash

Greetings,

Welcome to Earth.

Earth is 4.5 billion years old. It is a spinning rock with a core, mantle and crust. It is cold in the winter and hot in the summer. It's round, wet and crowded. Fortunate humans maybe live 100 years. A blink of the eye. 

The core is 1,800 miles below the surface. It is a dense ball of iron and nickel. The inner core temperature is 6700F. The inner core is 750 miles thick.

The outer core is 1,370 miles thick.

The mantle is above the core. The mantle is 1,800 miles thick.
The crust is 3.14 or apple Pi. Or as a statistical genius said, 'there are lies, damn lies and statistics.'

Deep inside the core fire burns through levels of shifting Teutonic plates, shuddering massive pressure, blathering hot embers, fumes, mixing gases, molten silica, and impatient promiscuous sulphuric acids.

This natural evolutionary pressure creates a gigantic orgasm, spewing, releasing, exploding, melting, through the mantle to the crust, surface and into the atmosphere. My volcano blasts ash and cinder and molten rocks the size of small projectiles into the atmosphere where it flies, floats and dances in wind. 

Nature is a gigantic, sublime, violent experiment. Nature is awesome, beautiful, terrifying and magnificent dramatic lesson in natural laws. Magma at work. Do not disturb.

Nature is a wonderful teacher. Nature informs humans in clear non-negotiable terms, 'you adapt, adjust, evolve or you die. This is natural selection.'

Simple as that. Nature says, 'unfortunately for living species, I have no agenda, flight plan, schedule, meeting, commerce, economy, plan, or boarding pass. My departure gate is the crust.

'I have a free pass. I have total power. I am unpredictable. I am violent and I am benign. I am gentle, kind and generous. I giveth and I taketh away. Humans will never completely with their severely limited intelligence control me, manipulate me or own me. I have vast powers. I create and I destroy. That's my Nature.

'Some humans call me Shiva, the Auspicious One. I am the destroyer of life. Fire is my source of power.

'Another manifestation is Mahakala, the Lord of Time.'

Humans are naturally naive. Naivety and stupidity and laziness is their Nature. They don't listen or pay attention to Nature until it, for example, shifts the plates below the Tibetan plateau causing an earthquake. The natural result is loss of life because shoddy buildings built by greedy humans all fall down.

Humans use fire to cremate bodies because there are not enough vultures to eat the remains. So it goes.

Ash, on the other hand, a buy product of Nature goes with the flow.

Metta.

A World Without Planes...read more 

Ash alert

Greetings,

One cool reality being pure wind is the stuff you get to get to blow around. Like kites.

Like toxic ash from exploding Icelandic volcanoes. This natural event traps silly humans on planet Earth. They become anxious, distraught and unreasonable. Especially when they prayed in vain to take a plane on vacation. Planes never get to go on vacation. Machines grind it out, 24/7.

Wind plays. Machines, animals and humans work. They trade their time for a handful of dimes.

What people don't see is fascinating.

People don't see the beautiful cumulus clouds of flying, swimming ash. It's 20,000 - 32,000 feet above their tired misaligned necks. Many assume it's a government plot to limit their freedom of escaping villages, towns and cities. They suspect travel and ticket agents, airlines, security screeners, dead relatives and orphans in Cambodia are all conspiring to prevent their freedom.

Humans are full of hot air. Talking heads prove this unpleasant fact. Their hot air contributes to the reality. Desperate scientists want to solve the natural ash conundrum along with other absurd activities to be famous and remembered by history.

History and Wind and Nature laugh. "HA, HA, HA."

Ash has no passport, nationality or identity theory. Ash is a gypsy. Ash is not discriminated by Europeans because they originated in India in the 9th century, speak Roma and love to sing and dance and tell stories.

Ash is an illiterate traveller. Ash does not bore humans with reminiscences.
Ash is free to sing, dance and go wherever they want.

Blow wind blow, blow my baby back to me.

Metta. 

Split the difference

Greetings,

Do you want the short version or the long version? This a perfectly appropriate question in life's chess game of experiences and conversations, especially while traversing the road less traveled on Earth, a spinning rock.

If you flesh out the short version with some immediate specific personal details it becomes longer, growing as threads of character development and destiny as character is destiny inter-twine a kind a rope made of hemp fibers or tightly woven reeds from a river in Mesopotamia which you can employ to hang yourself or pull yourself to safety or easily used by someone in the story before, during or after you finish what erupted as a simple sentence with a line long enough to hang laundry on taking on a life of it's own because you are a conduit, a towering magical volcanic mountain releasing hot molten lava from a highly charged pressurized center. 

A burning ring of fire.

Give someone a match and they'll be warm for a minute. Set them on fire and they'll be warm for the rest of their life.

This molten conglomeration of dust, mud, water, soil, sediment, sandstone, gas, graphite, gypsum, rocks, boulders, pebbles, 24-carat carbon diamonds, fossilized fragments of vegetarian dinosaurs, compressed plankton and every imaginable geological logical particle known to man, woman and child and even others blasts it's way out of the deep red hot core of existence into the atmosphere where it cools, then gravity, the scourge of civilization and it's malcontents, contributes it's force as the dense weight of mass falls, slithers, slides, rumbles, cascades, rolls, strolls, runs, flowing down, down, down engulfing everything in it's path melting the landscape, carving new strata grand canyons gouging out a path for the quickly cooling massive debris reaching it's crescendo before slowing to a mere glowing vein.

Metta.

2-million year old bones in Spain.

Carmen, a famous chef in Eugene, Oregon.