Head of Wild Foliage, NZ Feb 6th 2009

"He showed me a sketch he had drawn once during a meditation. It was an androgynous human figure, standing up, hands clasped in prayer. But this figure had four legs and no head. Where the head should have been, there was only a wild foliage of ferns and flowers. There was a small, smiling face drawn over the heart... To find the balance you want, thsi is what you must become. You must keep your feet grounded so firmly in the earth that it's like you haev four legs instead of two, that way, you can stay in the world. But you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart instead. That way you will know God."

This quote is from one of my favourite books I've begun re-reading called Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I lost my Krishnamurti book somehow. But I know it's happened for a reason and it will just come back and find me so far.

So it's been four days since I've updated, but it's gone by so quickly it feels like only 24 hrs. Is it weird that time has gone by quite quick on less than 3 hrs sleep a night?

The flight to Melbourne wasn't all that great because the food was late but that's not important. The stuards looked tense and stress and one dropped a whole tray on me and I didn't even mind because he was african, wearing a baby blue colored suit and his name was Jupiter. I've gotten into the habit of visualizing white light around whatever hunk of metal my vulnerable little body happens to be encased in. And I try to send gratitude to everyone and anything that ever had to do with the building and upkeep of such a huge human carrier. the pilot, the people who loaded the food, the people in the air control towers, the engineers, the double checkers, the materials the earth gave to make this plane, everyone who's ever had a trip in it, all the people currently in it. i send all this points of physical matter love and white light and happiness and this makes for a much calmer flight when that unexpected shake of turbulence hits and I grab Barts hand out of instinct and he starts making fun of me by gasping and squeezing and jumping me.

So we arrive to Andrew (Bart's uncle) and Kath (Andrew's neighbour) waiting for us at the airport and they drive us to Miller Street where they live in Prahran. We took a walk in their area (which reminded me alot of Toronto Queen Street Summer) and I got a bank account. (How efficient am I?) The thing I was most surprised and urked by was the apparent deadness of the grass and all living green things sprouting from the ground. This saddened me quite a bit. There was just a heatwave that happened right before we arrived, but I began to appreciate the green of Canadian summers, the diversity of our weather even if it does get so cold, we hibernate. There is a balance in that cycle. This lack of green, I did not yet know, would be compensated by the green hearts of the kiwi people.

The street we were on was a bit shi shi. Cute boutiques with pretty things I promised myself later I would stop to look at when I return. The girls are good looking and have nice dressed, and there is this summery indie feel amongst the young with slight nu rave peaking through in the form of neon sunglasses. But there are these horrible looking sandals that everyone wears which cover the ankle and I just don't get it... since the ankle is one of the sexiest parts of the body *to me anyway*

Because I was so tired and ungrounded, my first impressions of Melbourne were very random and awkward. So I'm deleting it all from my mind and letting it go so that I can approach my new city untainted and clean... (hmm, wouldn't it be helpful to approach all of life this way. thats what Jenna does. she's like a piece of glass life moves through.) ANYWAY

Andrew has a been living in the same one bedroom flat for around 20 years. Every wall in his home is covered with shelves of books. Some shelves just line the top of of the walls right under the ceiling. But as soon as you walk in, to the right is a room blanketed with books. Everything is organized and labeled. The energy of this home library and the accumulaton of this information mirrors the energy splaying off in various directions from Andrew's head. It's like an energetic cosmic archive of Andrew's brain. It's the combination of certain philisophical, religious and political book that makes me feel I understand him one inch more. And alot of Chomsky.

I have always dreamt about building my own library but somewhere along the way of the past year, the idea or belief entered me that I needed to let go of as much unneccesary physical baggage as possible to live simply. Fuck that! I'ma get myself a LIBRARY! To have a library is to build your own inspiration jungle of words and ideas. It's a milky way of cosmic knowledge that you came to earth to encounter. Just like cosmic knowledge hangs over cities and places. I know this is a really hippy thought for some of you, but just roll with me for a second. Indulge all your limitless fantasies and possibilities vicariously through me. What an ultimate pleasure and blessing that it's even possible for us to do this. Let alone write books for people to include in their library with our name on it! I am reminded of all the beautiful people on my path who house impressive libraries. Miki Laval, Mike Donovan, Patricia Mohan. We all have a little library in our heart. Even if it is just one or two shelves. Even if we bought the shelf for $10 dollars and then sold it for $15.

When I think of even having my top ten books in the same counrty together my mind body brims with visions of having each one of the truths I found in them at my constant disposal. Have you found truth in words that lie on a page? Have you read a line that just made your whole body tingle with vibrations. Have your ever read a book a second time and noticed a line that hadn't stuck out to you before, but now it does based on your current orientation and understanding of the world? Its a fuckin spiritual thing man. Like waking up hung over beside your best friend and just having the best day recording a podcast, going to the sauna, ordering a pizza and just blabbing your heart out the whole way through.

After a nap and hearty meal of polish hunters stew with Andrew, we re-packed, re-strengthened, re-visioned my greeting Ada outfit, hit the pillow for about three hours and then got up at 4am to catch a train, get on a new plane with the dew of precious things and fly to the land of clouds that called out to us through his blood connections. Brother and sister coming together and girlfriend witnessing a brew of old fireworks, stories and familiar eyes.