this i believe

i believe in magic.

i believe that it lives in every thing in every where in every how, as long as we have the right eyes to see it. we give names strange & common, but all the breath i breathe & the love i make & the world i meet; it's magic.

magic can be hidden in forgotten-walled-paintings & found in the world captured inside. magic can be word changes with another and tapping into the conscious float above. magic can be finding a stone that makes you heal, or a shell that makes you grow, or a hand whose heart makes you whole. magic can be dreaming & waking when you intend it.

i believe that magic is within and without and permeates all. magic is what makes me rise & fall, it's what makes me move. i believe finding my magic & seeing yours is what keeps my blood shining & my lungs gleaming & my hands bewitching. magic is what made me find life & it's what makes me live it well.

i believe we all should learn our own magic. then the mundane can die to itself and our world can be a bit more fairy-dusted & werewolf-filled. i believe that makes much more sense than this nightmare reality we all find so safe.

i believe in the witchy side of life, here's to tipping more off my rocker til i take my broom to the moon. i bet there's more magic up there anyway.

home

homeless means homes of many places.

my brain has learned it before, but these months it's begun to mean something new. before, it meant that i had my place, be it heavy funked air of bluefields or the buffalo ridden suburbian oasis (e.g. daniel's park or pearl street walk) or the freedom sands of samara.

but now, now it means the arms of my durangatangs that don't mind my gypsy year & the county road two fifty night sky & turtle lake's hidden valley hugs & knowing that my family is ever growing, even though some choose to leave. my home is those who love me regardless, my home is those who love me because, my home is here, my home all those wheres.

as i become more me, and my path finds those who will landcrab as we work or those who play with rocks in peruvian jungle, i know i am home. as i discover my onions & they laugh with my layers & they crinkle with my strangeness, i know i am following where i'm meant.

thank you to those that know, and those that shelter, & those that rise with me. & those who have left, i understand them too. we had our time & perhaps it was long or maybe just short, but my love follows all that have kept my feet chasing. my heart beats with all my homes be it person or place, & she's grateful for all that's come.

my chest doesn't weigh tonight, or maybe it just weighs with all the goodness she's been gifted. this life we've created together is magic beyond print.

borders

these days i find my edges blurring, & they're soaking up the rest around me. it's sort of like bleeding & all they have to pump me full is foreign. somedays is columbian & somedays its peruvian & other days its european, but either way, it never was meant to be mine. 

as my veins empty & others fill i'm losing my me & becoming more them & all that's left is a small glass cube...& the cube's began its shrink, & it's whispering its threats to crack.

she gave me a stone and it rests on my chest and he made me a ring and it lives on my hand but still my borders fade. i want to have a shell that you can touch but not one that you can sink your hand through and twist my insides. they're meant to be mine and they're sick of being swirled.

days of the south, today they're heavy.

tired

do you ever feel like words cost too much & your soul can't get enough sleep? i'm the most exhausted i've ever been...in every way.

i think he's who triggered most of it, being so hollow. the one whose heart got tired & lost its beat. i think his spirit's still here, stuck on its coffin couch and i can hear it sag. he's stepping on my chest, and i'm weary for it. two weeks with the heaviest ending, and none tastes the same afterward. strange.

part of it too is all the running i've done. i've been scrambling from hammock to beachy sand, from old friends to new, & i think all the forging has left me short of breath. 

so, i think the time's come to rest. it's back to hammock & beachy sand, & from new friends to solitude...then eventually back to old friends. i think peru & bolivia have something hiding for me, & i can't wait to have it unravel. just like i had to shave my head, & i had to move to a town i'd never tasted & without any humans i knew, i have to pound my feet in the southern hemisphere, for the first time, with no hands near to hold. the baby steps are getting bigger, but soon they'll lead to a straight spine followed by steps that are sure.

so i guess 2013's decided; it's a year for the found.

last year was one for the lost.

i spent one of its thirds lost in the physical sense. like the stranded day on honduran-nicarguan border, too-many-cordoba-short for a place to rest our heads. the first 2012 months were full of wandering, backpack laden & never quite sure where we were on the map.

the other two thirds were lost in the brain sense. like the day i knew i didn't know anymore & i had to pick up & burn a new world; that's how i landed here. i wasn't sure who i wanted to be, but i knew it had to be someone different. durango made that possible.

those three thirds led to last night in the champagne spray & the bluegrass pound & the dancing faces. i was lost again...but the good kind. getting lost in this mountain town crew led me to the miner's tavern, getting geeked out with some of the best this year brought me. it's funny how stomping feet & mushroom grins & high life cans can make you feel whole.

i don't know how i got there, but all i know is i'm glad i was.

with all the lost, i found some of the most beautiful in these last three hundred & sixty-five. like those mexican days of beerberto &  my new taco shop family & neighbor potluck sundays. even when i feel like i'm on a southwestern island far from those who know past me, i beginning to think old me doesn't much matter. i've found love & all i could ever need in each country, town, & bar that have met my feet, regardless of the me i brought to each place.

so whose to say if 2013 will be lost or found? either way, i'll keep burning or at least the world will keep burning me. i'm really starting to believe that i've always been exactly where i was meant; now to see where the coming places will be.