Just got this photo of the group I worked with at Esalen over this last month. Taken at Porter’s Yurt where we worked, high above the Pacific, it includes (from left) Daphne, Nikki, Lars, Rio, Jamie, Peter, Isabel, Jane, BanghHan, Thomas, Geno, Alicia, Marie-Jorge, and Nicole. It was great to work in the loving embrace… Read more
There’s nothing like contrast – from the high foggy cliffs of Big Sur to a late winter storm in Maine: Yesterday I dropped my skis outside the woodshed and took off over the lake and up into the woods. Everything dolloped in white, all the sounds hushed in a virgin coverlet with just the skiit-skiit… Read more
If, as the originals say, your soul must walk to wherever it’s going, then my soul is probably still somewhere in Kansas, as my body whooshed home at 700 mph from dissecting in rainy Phoenix to landing in icy Maine. Hope my soul doesn’t slip on the way. Actually, given the number of miles I… Read more
After a long stretch of ‘mud season’, I am reveling in winter – the snow finally arrived. Because it started wet, there are great gouts of frosting weighing down the pines and because there was wind, there’s a solarized etching of ice on the windward side of the hardwoods. Because it ended dry, french curves… Read more
In what kind of society do so many run amok? My response to the Newtown massacre was immediate, but I had to let it percolate before letting it out. There are a lot of problems with modern America, some breed anger, some sorrow, some, like John Boehner, the Kardashians, and Honey Boo-Boo, breed sarcastic derision.… Read more
New York is one of the great walking cities, and a little cold weather makes for a brisk stride. Hot weather bakes poisons out of the bricks, but a crisp evening dulls the smells and sharpens the ear for the passing conversations, always a random joy in this polyglot city. I am walking uptown to… Read more
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