dreams of LA

December 31, 2021

My life is cursed, and tonight I’m feeling a special acceptance—even gratitude—for the fact that it has the pitfall of chaos rather than the pitfall of stagnation or imprisonment of the mind.

This whole situation with the Constable and La Femme continues to reveal to me the cursed constraints of the human mind, which are rooted in fear-based attachments. I can’t be the arbiter for another person’s decision, but with the data I have and the creature I am, I don’t understand how they could fulfill each other’s deepest need, nor mine.

Lately I’ve been feeling intensely motivated toward an Airsteam/nomadic project. I think it would nourish many of the parts of myself that are deeply individual and powerful, the whole of which desires paradigm-shifting growth and testing of the fundamentals of my environment, the part of me that craves the aesthetic and sensual experience of the ocean, the desert, the West. And the part that wants to be close to the center of history with writing and counterculture and art and the 60s-70s. I have felt drawn to all of this for awhile.

I also crave the emotional, aesthetic, vibrant creature I could become in a place with more possibility and sun and water. To be able to sit alone on the ocean and write, to start a potential new permanence in a place with historical and artistic energy.

I also think the anonymity and the process of knowing everyone I meet in the storied newness of myself will yield information to me about myself that I’d LOVE and have really always been dying to know. Because I’d thrive as my hippie goddess self, an iconoclast and healer and intellectual and artist and pot of gold in a space with sooo much energetic tension and with so many people cut from a similar cloth.

My powers are my gaze, my words, my sexual energy, love, intuition, mental capacity to see both sides of any situation—the scales!

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