Learning faster by watching interesting things….nice Satie touch, though he was not from Spain.
I enjoyed traveling in what was D.F. now CDMX, (but many CDMX residents still call it “Dey eFay”). Stayed with friends who lived in La Condesa, so it made the experience less overwhelming. It is indeed a land of opportunity for more rural and mixed race Mexicans. There are many artistic, creative, and highly educated Chilangos who generate a feeling of hope and ambition in the community. Many of them travel around the world and have a network of multinationals that they do small businesses with. In regard to the city itself, there are gorgeous nuggets of art and humanity all over this town, but it is huuuge and the energy of each area is very different. That being said, I found that walking in the city was the most gratifying of adventures. There are cool places outside the city, but expect to take 3 hours to get out of the urban areas, as the traffic is insane.
The air quality is famous for being horrible. At first it doesn’t seem that palpable or a need for concern. You will notice that the sky looks fairly clear and all seems well, but after a while, many people start to wonder why they feel so light headed and shaky. Yeah, the air is not great. It is necessary to slow down, and go inside after being out and about for too long. I found that if I didn’t go inside and lay down for a while each day I felt sort of roach-like. Like someone hit me with cloud of raid.
I did not feel uncomfortable in regard to crime or danger, only hyper-aware in certain areas . However, I have travelled all over the world and this is the only place where I managed to get royally ripped off. It felt like a genuine D.F. experience though.
Think fast, cuz someone behind you is going to jump on a golden opportunity. Lots of life, lots of stories.
I have an amazing portrait from a street paper with a classically colorful story that comes with it. I have to get pic of the image and post it here.
The old drive that had all my Mexico photos got destroyed, and this is all that’s left.
Lots of objects and one arachnid:
The sound of Bebop Jazz can be heard in the distance coming from an open window of an old 1920s cabin here by the lovely Russian River.
Miles and his friends have followed up from the city…
In the morning, at around 7, a murder of crows pass over. They perch on the branches of a probably hundred-plus -year-old walnut tree. The shaking of the branches by the crows cause the walnuts to come crashing down onto the cabin. Good Times.
Going deeper into the woods tomorrow. End of wifi, phone signals, and clothes. I am pleading with the forces that be that Mother Nature will keep the flames low, not switching to the west, keep still and humid, and not converge onto the town I am driving through on the way. Please be good winds and have mercy on the people and the wild beasts.
The Subterraneans will be kicking off the Norcal tradition tomorrow by clearing out the hacienda of all detritus and dirt and locking up. Driving away from the steaming anxiety-belt that is S.F. and going up into the pockets of wild, moss-green.
Smell those rodeos, redwood, and cedar. The bear, deer, coyote, hawk, raccoon, squirrel, fox, heron, rattlesnake, banana slug, and otter will greet us.
Scan the shores and walk trails. Lounge about in bursting hot-spring waters; naked, reading “Walden”.