Needing more magick; the dark and the light. The sinister feelings I’ve had of Aleister Crowley and the warm filling up hearing three (two old white men one young Asian man) magicians discuss sleight of hand and double-sided cards. I see the enormous fox stop and look back on past-midnight full moon mountain turns. And the cooler air rolling off the steep hills into the canyons below.
I need to reinvoke the artist and stir the crazed poet, the die hard romantic has been dying. The musician should bang away on tuned percussion with rhythms as arrhythmic as his own tempo.
Plenty of caffeine, gold pressed leaves, late late nights, early earliest mornings, keep your mid days I am asleep with Italy and Spain!
I won’t make climbing sport or reason. It is the intense “need” that compels the going and planning, thought and process only catches up by necessity. Consideration shows up on occasion. That is of course the balance that defines function or dis. The boundary man or the mad.