Mendo Coast, March 2013

It's been almost eight months here now and all I have to show for it is an apartment full of paintings. Not my paintings, of course, but found items salvaged from various second hands here on the coast. Grant it, some things have followed me from Washington and Idaho, some pieces, such as the Regulator clock, go back even further than that. Books, knick-knacks, film, music, all that standard stuff of my life, seem to find their way into my home no matter where I go, which is fine and well and good. I have always liked to surround myself with gee-gaws, with the essentials that make my life raft, desert island lifestyle always appealing and welcoming, even to those just passing through.

I've had those passing through moments here in Fort Bragg. Life is what you make of it and it has been busy, no doubt. I volunteer all over the place...Winesong, Coast Clean up, the Noyo Food Forest fund raiser, Whale Days, Mendocino Film Fest, KNYO radio, the local food bank. .I take in Fort Bragg's First Friday art walk and the 2nd Saturday in Mendocino whenever I can. I've cadged tickets to concerts, taken in art house flicks, made myself known at the local brew pub. I've lent my hand to many things, been successful as a manager at the local branch library, had a few dinner parties, made some interesting contacts, even made some friends along the way. Had a good pal, some even might call a lover, pass through my life oh so briefly. She was a basket weaver, a collage artist, a true character, one who burned her wicks at both ends and in the middle, too. She had complications, that gal, had health issues and other complexities that, in the end, took her out. Heart attack. In her own bed. Wonders never cease for me here in this life. Make friends only to have them go away, seriously far away.

But in the end this life, this cast onto the shore of the Pacific life, has been filled with goodness, a ton of  introspection, a bit of harsh loneliness, sometimes too much wine, a tad too much spending and a wee bit too little in the way of income. I make my way to the City only when business beckons. I walk the coast every chance I get. I study the coastal maps, pack snacks and water and try out new places to wander, to beach comb and to empty my mind.

In all of that I still find you. I find you everywhere, from the wildest coastal crags to the aisles of the funkiest thrift stores to the hard bench seats of tacquerias in the smallest of tiendas. What was it recently that triggered thoughts of you? Oh, yes, Seussical Style. I saw a poster for the production while I waiting to do training at the local micro radio station. Walked across Franklin Street to take a better look. I saw what there was to see and immediately I was taken back to a Veteran's Day weekend ages ago. Even at this distance of almost eight hundred miles and many years you manage to sneak in under the wire, come to me sideways, say hello without having to utter a word. I long for it and yet, when it comes, it leaves me breathless.

I am not immune to your charms even from this distance, my dear, I must admit. Even with restrictions such as not  having a computer in my life I manage to peek into your world. I saw new snaps of you on FB the other day and loved seeing them. And then, with the dexterity of a wing walker, I took those images into my heart and walked the seaside cliffs here in town to try to shake them loose. I took that visage of yours right up to the surf, right up to the edge of the water at sunset and thought hard about you, thought hard of all those things that used to bind me to you and then, like casting off a feather into the wind, let that image of your face go.

But then, M, my love, you see, I have a whole pillow case full of feathers here to toss into the wind. Many sunsets yet to come, many second hands yet to troll, many meals and bottles of wine and movies to delight in, many more reasons to think of you.

Here's to water views, to children all around us, to decisions that continue to mar and alter and delight our lives and to old lovers that go on and on and on. Thank the gods for that.

Love always, your WHMB