we saw our protagonist, he was busy trying to breathe some zest into his painting, living on the knife edge between craft and art, and generally having to gird his mental loins to go beyond what had come before. in the end i got to a point where i thought it was pretty finished– and […]

what was it that i was last talking about before this long traverse to spain and morocco and burying a dear friend– mr spike– at sea? i remember now… the painting!! or, rather, at that time it was a mere sketch, messy pencil marks on a canvas that looked like mascara after a good weep–

“sissy– silly– fou fou– little rat dog”– i can remember meeting my diminutive chum and thinking perhaps words similar, although the actual verbiage escapes me at the moment. i have never been much of a fan for smaller dogs, thinking them mostly high-strung and noisy, barking more than is needful, always underfoot, always needing a

the return trip to barcelona was like being sucked through a glass straw backwards– it was one of those looong days!! actually slept in a little, but got up to gratefully drink down a couple cups of strong coffee, then a short wander uphill towards the ancient keyhole gate, but first a stop for breakfast–

“didja know we’re riding on the marrakesh express…”– close, but as they say– no cigar!! it IS a train, though. up verrry early, to sneak out of cadiz in darkness. the highway quiet and almost deserted, and escaping town marvellously easy– cadiz, expect to see me again sometime!! the run to tarifa, where the ferry

there are precious few places in this world where i could honestly say that i would truly love to live– i spent time in santa fe in the 70s, a halcyon age there, before the blight of it being overrun by the modern carpetbagger. and of course, if summer lasted all year long in vancouver,

out of barcelona. the city has a great metro system, and it delivers one right into the train station, a busy place thronging with people. people going everywhere, people sitting on luggage. people– everything from greying businessmen to women in purdah, sandals to shoes with turned-up toes, the highest of heels to the more fashionable

well, this is bound to be a bit of a ramble to write, plus most likely a little longish, as i am going to be adding to it during my trip in spain and morocco, will have to wait til i add photos– after my return to cozumel on the 8th of october. we began

most likely i should have titled this “atlantean ponderings”, this being the caribbean, or even “caribbean ponderings”, but my choice has such fine alliteration– i like it!! it’s been a busy week for me here at rancho rance-o– i have been stuggling with several things, like opening up my new bank account– finished it up

having just a little problem with the computer, and it would seem like it didn’t deliver my last blog (#17– public hair, or…”), nor a couple of new images of jewellery– my mayan jaguar face earring jackets, plus the mayan jaguar face bracelet with red corals– i am not sure if i made some sort

“here i am, caught in this armpit AGAIN??”– two armpits, to be acutely correct. in the 70s, i used to associate the word “armpit” with the little town of cache creek, british columbia (apologies to all current cache creekers, i am sure that your burgh is quite spiffy by now), which was the nexus of

more madness, in other words– early in the construction of the first “madness” post, i started having problems. the script kept bounding outside the lines, and the photos wouldn’t go where i had put them— i just tried it for this post, and it went down well, thank guinness!! i had just had some work