
clouds over LA dance alone, between skies
March 26, 2018 at 08:00PM
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../melody in chaos
clouds over LA dance alone, between skies
March 26, 2018 at 08:00PM
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“Great Scott, Westy! Make sure your parents and Cat are nowhere near the Clock Tower when the lightning bolt strikes. 1.21 gigawatts is heavy!”
“Doc, I gotta tell you something!”
“Not now, Westy. Just make sure your parents meet. Your future depends on it!”
March 20, 2018 at 05:21PM
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it’s impossible to desaturate california
March 17, 2018 at 06:52PM
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Elusive Road, as mapped by El Goog, is just an echo of the past. Its old concrete slabs degraded beneath my feet, and ended in impenetrable overgrowth on the ridge line. A double-back at the 2K mark of a 5K isn’t such a letdown, tho, when this is the view you get twice.
guitar + sunrise + birds + distant traffic https://t.co/gFHEZCAuzL
— ../westy (@westyreflector) March 15, 2018
March 15, 2018 at 12:44PM
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a laurel canyon dawn: guitar + sunrise + birds + distant traffic
slow and loose channeling of Tony Rice’s interpretation of Shenandoah
She said, “Pull off at Exit Two Eighteen.
Let me out, I’ll find another ride.
I just don’t know where the time has gone,
and I’m tired of these freeway signs.
“Your stories make me laugh,
but your songs make me cry.
I don’t think I can live that way.
I need someone not so low, and maybe not so high.…
continued...
The PCH has more in common with its [P]acific than its [H]ighway. Relentless yet frozen, oceans & certain roads are living snapshots of eras, and yet reveal our future. Neon road signs and crashing waves are forms of ephemerality. All is transit. Nothing is [C]oast.
March 13, 2018 at 12:00AM
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At Malibu’s 57°F water temperature, you begin to lose dexterity in 10 to 15 minutes without a (or with a faulty) wetsuit. A dawn patrol zipper check by a surfing partner goes way beyond simply ensuring your modesty if you wipe out and get rag dolled.
March 12, 2018 at 06:35PM
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What if we could ride all the waves?
What if the world was safe
for everything we are?
What if we could exchange
every turn we’ll ever take
for one North Star?
March 11, 2018 at 08:11PM
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egrets, i’ve never known
March 11, 2018 at 01:18PM
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What if we could ride all the waves
What if the world was safe
for everything we are
What if we could exchange
Every turn we’ll ever take
For one true North Star
Counting on lightning
Counting on dreaming
Counting on sleeping sometime soon
Counting on one plan
Counting on another hand
(and I’m still) Counting on counting on you
What if we could live on a cloud
above the rain
where stars are the only lights
But you need stable ground
your wings need a break
You carry me through the sky
Sometimes the faster you hold on
To each other
The faster you drift apart
Together
RIP Bob Jacks
Canyon topography dictates, never submits. Roads narrow as you elevate, and many end w/out warning around blind curves. But where asphalt ends, paths often snake off into the brush under Right-of-Access signs, leading to semi-secret spots that always seem to be expecting you.
March 09, 2018 at 05:46PM
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“There’s this store where the creatures meet / I wonder what they do in there…” wrote Jim Morrison in Love Street. The “store” is the Canyon Country Store, and Mr Mojo lived w/ his gf Pam just behind on Rothdell Trail. I’m a 10 min walk, and now a certified creature.
1/2 way up the hill
is a long way down
to extend your horizon
to wave away clouds
Into the great unknown
Into endless blue
1/2 way up the hill
was the best we could do
where calm clear sky
is the everyday
no wonder the sun
yearns to steal away
into the great unknown
into endless blue
1/2 way up the hill
was the best we could do
echoes of times
when we were strong
swirled into good bye
after so longs
what keeps you alive
is not the same
as what makes you live
or what flies away
The east side of Laurel Canyon slopes up to a neighborhood named Mount Olympus, where you can find yourself at the corner of Electra and Jupiter after a left on Apollo off Oceanus. The sun often rises in volcanic splendor over Mount Olympus in LA. Who would’ve thought?
March 07, 2018 at 05:04PM
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Picture a house with no mirrors,
where you never need to see
your self as a reflection,
you just need to be.
There’s no such thing as slowing down
speed is only how far
you feel you are in time
There’s no such thing is getting old
age is only how long
you think you are in time
There’s no such thing as living alone
bonds are just as strong
you know we are in time
some pain is not a window, but a wall
you build so no one can see you
and you can’t see out at all
There’s no such thing as giving up
life is just as long as
you don’t think in time
well I’m climbing up this Canyon drive
high enough to see across time
to the days where you and I
had nothing to leave behind
up here, on this Canyon drive
a thousand feet up in the sky
on a one-lane two-way graded switchback ride
we opened up and saw ourselves from outside
and knew we wanted no other life
up here, on this Canyon drive
down in the Valley a relentless pursuit of dreams
in every shadow a sorrow and a scheme
a world designed to keep us from coming alive
far away from all the light that shines
up here, on this Canyon drive
what price wouldn’t you pay
to let nothing get in your soul’s way
to quiet dark echoes of unlived lives
at least up here there’s hope you’ll find
peace on this Canyon drive
Jonathan Livingston Chicken lives across from our cottage. Every evening, between 5 and 6, Jonathan escapes his coop, hops on his roadside fence, clucks proud, and flies up an adjacent tree. “I’m a chicken with a hawk soul,” he tells me. “They don’t prey on me.”
March 03, 2018 at 09:37PM
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