On the road again, at the mercy of Lady Luck who has ridden faithfully in our journey’s side car. I try to doze with excitable Mexican radio in my ear and my drying hair tickling my face like a family of baby spiders.
Lightness,brightness and warmth leave me blinking after my damp mushroom dark.
Jazz wife,the fun and boredom, learning again to look and not be seen. The pride in my man and the envy of the intense connection I cannot be part of.
In between books, it’s a perilous time, trying to choose who will be my companion and bed fellow for the next week is a serious business!
Wild paint wielding, there is no definite destination but the journey is one of pain, passion and pleasure.
Dark and bright Mexico, with it’s sad dogs, and jewel like stitching, the smells of sewers drowned by the sites of ancient spirit and sweet eyed children.
Quick with a flicker, sharp as a cat I see a bird. A tiny vibrant winged messenger of fleeting joy.
Explore what you don’t know, create from what you already have.
Fighting the Jaguar she just fights back, claws flashing wildly. Sitting here with her, she calms, not tame, but just herself.
Stranger in a strange land, disconnected and seeking reflection I cast around bitterly for recognition. Slowly I understand I have become estranged from myself, it is in here I need to feel noticed, loved and included, if I can do that ‘out there’ will take care of itself.