I'm in Vermont right now. And Vermont's in me. Ever since I got here, it's been all skipping and smiling. This is the first time I've been in the state of Vermont since childhood - and it's just the way I left it. I dig being surrounded by the decent people - I want to smuggle one of them back to the city with me.
This has been a negativity-free trip, aside from the bumblebee that ruthlessly antagonized me for a good 15 minutes during a 4-hour hike earlier today. Mofo spent so much quality time in my hair that he may have planted some of his seeds in there. And then one of his blood-sucking brethren took a bite out of my left arm - twice.
In better news, I liked the inspirational, life-validating conversation I had with a jewelry-maker/semi-precious-stone metaphysicist. She's another unapologetic member of the free-spirit world.
There's so much medicinally lush and open space up here. It's good for the head. Physical space yields emotional space. Which is why such a disturbing number of New Yorkers are perennially out of their gourds, vacillating between hysteria and melancholia. It's not healthy to be crammed up against each other, in grime-tainted air, for years on end. Spending huge sums of disposable income on therapists and/or bottles or baggies full of toxins is just settling for a Band-Aid instead of the Big Picture.
I'm just about ready to buy myself a bicycle and some cross-country skis, and upwardly move. All I really need is the water, the mountains, and the cold. I would complain so much less up here (at least I'm pretty sure I would)....
Dear Santa . . .
1 day ago