rippedandtwisted

A day, a week, a month? Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I forget how long I've been gone and sometimes I forget how long I've been back. But come monday I'll be back in LA. Drifting the streets. Gig after movie after bar after show after movie after club after bar and so on and so forth. Was it Borges who said that exploring a city is like exploring some hidden part of yourself? I suppose that is how I feel sometimes. But it seems more to me as though someone else is exploring my hidden self cause I am such a pushover when it comes to going out when I don't want to. Hell, all it really takes is the mention of someone buying me a drink and I'm so there.
I will miss the family of course. And, unexpectedly, I will miss the trees: today I took a bottle of wine and a canvas and some paints and just zoned out painting beneath the same trees I used to play in as a kid. It was cathartic. And more than a little nice to just be alone, ya know? Sometimes you need that. You need a bottle of wine and an afternoon diversion and the dead center of nowhere. Totally fucking yeah!
In other news, i'm off to the San Diego Fair on Friday. Loads of food, booze and rides. And I want a new belt buckle. I'm thinking the old time sheriff's badge, the one with the star inside a circle, ya know? Maybe, maybe not. I dunno. I haven't worn the skull and crossbones one I got last year too much 'cause it's so damned big. A conundrum, for sure...