I have been so busy, and lately SO happy.

I'm falling more in love every day with my handsome fella, best friend, partner in crime. My friends give me more laughter and support than I ever could've dreamed, I'm going back to Burning Man and then back to school this fall. I'm healthy and in good shape, I go dancing often and love it, I'm more aware of what I eat. I love tequila and wine and am finally growing out my hair- it's almost past awkward but I strangely don't mind.

I live in a beautiful house with fantastic people, will have a garden soon and chickens next year. I have replaced my vehicle and it survived the 4th of July. I still enjoy stilting around town and wish I made more money for all the inkwork I daydream about.

The world is at my fingertips.
I close my eyes and breathe it in.

Burning Man, what an experience, so different from last year, like a fostered pauper to royalty.

Portland really brought it this year; The Temple, Center Camp's archway as the Curmudgeon (a project I briefly helped build in the beginning), The Mobile Groove Bomb (we brought one of the largest art cars [a 30ft wide bus with dancing platforms, a pvc-legged dome on top, a 40ft tall tower crested with a flame cannon] on playa this year, played live music, ferried temple crew and shared dinners, did art tours with the art-ery), countless other projects and cars and I'm sure at last half the city was gone for it.

Beautiful.
My favorite part? My crew, meeting new and wonderful people, getting to know better th'less new but equally wonderful people.

Home safe and relatively sound, finally feeling most of my soul has come back to me though i can't help but feel a little jaded by my world here still...

Stilted with friends in the Alberta Street Fair parade just this last saturday, which was a hoot, and before that on thursday met at Dantes with the MGBBus for an Afterburn party. Interesting to see all those people in their clean, sharp black clothes and high-heels under the red light of an edgychic LA-infatuated club, trying to remember what dancing in the dust feels like. I enjoyed myself and danced too, just have mixed feelings on it. Everything is like that when you first get back, it seems.

Yesterday was a good day, bloody-marys and brunch, laying in the sun reading my book, gardening with rua, lovely walk under the full moon rising to meet for a 'decompression' discussion and dinner.

yeah, jaded but still thankful for the beauty I do have and am surrounded by.

cheers, folks-
L over and out.

Fourth of July. I've never been super huge on it, never had fireworks or even sparklers, I don't think. I mean, after Burning Man last year I think it's safe to say that I've seen enough fireworks to last me a good long time. Seaworld by my house in California set off a huge display practically every weekend.
So today was all about gettin' together with folks I adore and playin' in the park, and damn if I don't know some people who do that well. A tripod of hammocks set up, phat sound system, blankets everywhere and bbq and so much delicious food (these thai peanut chickenkabobs were the most amazing morsels I've ever had the pleasure...). Friends and playmates everywhere, margaritas, people dancing and hoola hooping and playing with a big red blowup ball that is by far the biggest yoga ball ever. I'm talking maybe 7 or 8 feet tall, no joke. I stilted for quite some time and even got a hoola hoop going at the same time, which I'm really quite pleased with myself about.
When the mosquitos got too thick we went to an after-party filled with more good food, music and laughter. One of our crazy friends has this fire-suit and firehelmet that he has been known to strap fireworks to and run around like a kook. Tonight happened to be one such night and it was *Awesome. Granted, he has his professional pyrotechnics license so he knows what he's doing.

Happy and sated I come home, curl up in bed and finally fall asleep amidst the booming and crackling in my neighborhood.. until I'm woken up maybe an hour later, 12:30 or so, by loud knocking on my front door. My housemate, maybe? Forgotten keys? I step out onto my front porch and what do I see but a fire off... um. A really big fire. Where my jeep is parked. In fact, my jeep is on fire.

My f*cking jeep is on fire, like.. really.. really on fire. My neighbors see me edging down the driveway in disbelief and yell at me not to get near it because it might blow up, they already called the fire department, don't get any closer. Could they tell I was trying to remember what was inside of it, if there was anything worth trying to rescue? At this point, more importantly, if there was anything left to rescue?
I'm trying to figure out where the front yard hose is in my head but I have no clue as I've never used it and for some reason I can't look away, anyway.
The flames have completely engulfed the front section of the inside of my jeep and I hear the back windows shatter, freeing more of the flame to lick out at the night sky. I'm at a total loss.
Then the ignition turns and I can hear it trying to.. start. Or about to blow up. But no, it doesn't blow up.. it turns over and engages and now the engine is on and running by itself on fire and I am at this point unable to witness this alone. This crazy fear in my head is that it's decided to go for a joy ride without me and I can picture it driving down my residential street, on fire, and crashing into god knows what all of it's own volition and I go inside to get my phone... The night goes on.

I am so blessed to have the people that I do in my life. Intelligent, supportive, life-loving, hard-working and partying people that really do what they mean and mean what they say and have such generous hearts and souls.
My house, my friends, my place of employment.

My pony never drove off by itself. I think she was just saying goodbye.
The firetruck arrived soon after and put her out.
I went out to see the damage and the firemen were polite enough to let me sob and scream and beat on it. I still have soot on my hands.
There's nothing but a melted, burnt out shell left, really. Maybe a little foam of the back seat.
The fire/arson investigator found the obvious remains of a large firecracker in what used to be my front passenger seat where someone had carelessly and intentionally tossed it through one of my open windows.

I am.. really.. um. torn up over this. That jeep... ugh, I don't even have the words for it right now. I'm all worded out, I got nothin' left. It super hurts and I know it's just a dumb car but it took me on a lot of adventures and..

I guess the moral of the story is love it while you got it and treat it right.
And roll up your windows on the fourth of july. Mine was the second one today, and fourth one this week.

Be safe ya'll.
love.

I'm still here, sweatin' and laughin' an dancin' with the boys and girls, tonguein' the tequila and lightin' shit on fire.

Lovin' my life, are you?

I wish there were some way that I could stretch enough, muscles flexing to match the shape of my ego, cartilage reforming, bones breaking into joints or draining hollow or sprouting into the wings that will catch me when these ones melt in the sun.

Sometimes this skin feels so limited. If I could just zip it off for a while, I'd lay it out on a rock and take a swim with the fishes darting through my hipbones or up under my jaw to hide behind my teeth and I'd dance on the beach, making devilish imprints and patterns in the sand. I'd put flowers where my eyes were and fit pearls in the nooks and notches of my spine, make a hat of starfish, shells and seaweed and float in a hammock under the pier.

Sometimes I just want to pull in my braid and cast myself out the tower window. I'll be my own Hero with my own Stallion, he'll be matte black and purr like a dragon and rumble through the streets under the yellow haze of night lights. Under his armor a stretch of sleek metal bones glistening with oil and perspiration and under mine just amber and wine, ripped jeans and circumstance.

The sun is coming out.