Travel

Closing My Eyes

I know the feeling, the feeling of seeing a place for the first time and knowing by the heat in the blood that I finally found my home. I was mentally aware home was out there, had pictured it in my head hundreds of times. But had never previously set foot on the hallowed soil.

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Bleeding Blue, Vomiting Pink

Bleeding Blue, Vomiting Pink

Once a year go someplace you’ve never been before. ~Dalai Lama Once a year is not enough to visit a place for the first time. Assuming two weeks vacation for the unique trip, there remain fifty weeks mired in daily, weekly, monthly rituals. It need not be. For the cost of a library card, it […]

Drained Sahara Dry

Drained Sahara Dry

You must close your eyes otherwise you won’t see anything. ~Lewis Carroll I wish I could close my eyes at 12:30 pm tomorrow and see the plane landing 15 hours later in Taipei…better yet…22 hours later in Manila. I am dreading the upcoming flights to the Philippines and the return a fortnight later.

Boatsman On The River Styx

Boatsman On The River Styx

I am in a shallow boat running low. The oars stroke rhythmically, consistently, no deviation in time or speed, tick tock mind the clock. Push, drop, pull, raise, glide. Tick. Push the arms forward. Tock. Drop the blades in the water. Wind the clock. Tick. Pull using all the muscles in the back and arms […]

The Fat Tailed Lizard in the Philippines (Seeking Tukó)

The Fat Tailed Lizard in the Philippines (Seeking Tukó)

Originally posted on Adventures of an American Traveler:
Awakened by a Demon The demon screeched as if being tortured in the pits of hell where every last inch of its flesh was flayed and the writhing, skinless, oozing body was dipped in rock salt and set on a slow-burning flame. “Uh-Ooooooo, Oh-Noooooo, Tu-Qoooooo, Fu-Quuuuu, Quuuu-Quu-uuu-uu-u”…

Wrapped In Flesh

Wrapped In Flesh

Armies of flying foxes unhinge themselves from the Banyan tree in the old graveyard and drive across the city like smoke. ~Arundhati Roy I used to watch them from the backseat of the car on the way home from the office when we drove across the crumbling bridge burdened by belching busses held together by […]

Sometimes, The End Is A Centipede

Sometimes, The End Is A Centipede

I go into a dark room looking for a record album and feel in my hand the wriggling form of a centipede who has chosen to sleep in the binding. ~Julio Cortázar With my writing, I explore the dark rooms of my soul, those buried places visible briefly at the tail end of a blink […]

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