Daily Archives: January 27, 2016

Library

It has been a while since I have been at the library. I have less than an hour. Maybe I can finish things at the other library. Today there are two men at the  table. Both older.

One has a shaggy beard. The brown of the beard matches his hair. But a shade lighter. He is using a small laptop. The man is wearing a moss green jacket. Like an army jacket. Or outdoor wear. Under which is a shirt, of matching color. But it also has plaid stripes.

Next to the man’s laptop is a small black case. With a large pocket for the laptop. And two pockets on the side for other things. Maybe the power cord.

The green-jacketed man is using the computer quietly. Browsing an unknown website. The other man has headphones. He is using a library laptop. A Chromebook lent to patrons for use in the library.

This man has a growing bald patch. But it is just beginning. Dark wire rimmed glasses rest on a clean shaven face. By the movement of his head he appears to be listening to music. He is using laptop number 38.

He has a Columbia Wear fleece coat on, zipped up to the collar. It is a shade between gray and green. He is focused on his task and his music. He appears to be in his 50s. While the other man appears to be in his 30s.

Under the sleeve of the mans gray jacket a watch is visible. His fingers are long and don’t show signs of hard labor. His nails are neat, clean and trimmed. There is a delicacy to his hand. And their movement on the mouse. The other man’s hands are larger, more rugged. They have more hair. A dark hair.

The two men seem unaware of each other. And unaware of myself. In the library a rustle of conversation can be heard. Behind me a librarian performs tasks on a computer.

She appears to be in her 40s, but she has dyed pink hair. Just strands. Her face is hidden behind the monitor from my perspective. I am sitting facing the wall. I prefer to face the window for the view. But the two men are taking up both those chairs. I haven’t seen or heard the hot librarian today. Last time I was here I spoke to her on the way out.

It was small talk. What do you say to someone you don’t know. Someone you think is hot. Hey, want to come over and get to know each other. I’m not a lecher. But I don’t know how to talk to anyone.

I can hear the typing of the librarian. The man with the green jacket sniffles. The other man clicks his mouse. Footsteps make their way across the back of the library. And a woman unzips her coat walking behind me.

She is browsing the New Books shelf. Thin legs in dark jeans, with a dark nylon coat. She carries a blue backpack on one shoulder. Her dark curly hair stopping just above her shoulders. She is absorbed in a book. The librarian is typing faster. The other librarian walks out of the bathroom. This man has no personality. I had to pay a fine. I prefer to call it a donation, I told him. He had no response. How does someone like him end up working at a library. I think I would enjoy working at a library.

A woman is looking for something. And the librarians are helping her. She has a loud voice. Telling the librarian the books she is looking for are new. She is spelling out what she is looking for to the librarian.

The woman in the dark coat has put down her book. She is now browsing the shelf again.

I have about 27 minutes to write and post. The internet is shut off before the library closes. The woman looking for the book takes a magazine off the rack. She has dark skin, dark hair wrapped up in a head scarf. She has gone to another area of the library to read. I can never really see what is going on behind me. And in front of me the two men remain.

The one in the green jacket now checking his phone. The other still focused on his project. Both men still seem to have taken no notice of each other. Or of me.

Something is making an odd noise. A child can be heard asking, “what is that?” The child is near the front of the library, by the check out desk. Now I see the child behind me. Talking to his mother, she looks young. In her twenties at the oldest. She has a knit cap on. The dark color matching the color of her sweat shirt. On her legs are black and gray tights.

The bearded man picked up his laptop and left. The child is asking his mother to go home. There is now an empty seat across from me. But I prefer not to move for now.

Wait, did I just hear her voice? There is a noise like from a cutting machine. Or the shelving of books. Could she really be older than she looks. It sounds like her sexy voice. She is telling a patron the library closes at 6 p.m. I have twenty minutes. Across from me is the magazine rack with a range of titles. From The Economist for business people to Family Fun, Harpers, MAD Magazine, People and of course Portland.

Oh my, I just saw her walk by in her stylish black coat and dark pants. Her walk is so determined. Like a person focused on their destination. A busy person with a lot on her mind. She has a uniform. Not a library uniform. But a set of clothes she has found are comfortable. And which look good on her. It was just a flash, a flash in my mind. And I wait for her to walk by again.

The woman who was browsing the New Books has some titles to borrow. She makes her way to check-out to leave. The man in the fleece checks his watch. How much time do we have before we go. Sixteen minutes.

This little branch is always active, but never busy. Do I hear her voice again. Does she just show up to close the library? Is she always here and just comes out to help close? So many questions. Do I really want to know or would I rather dream about my short hot library girl? She is picking up stacks of books. Taking them to the back for sorting and reshelving?

She must have walked behind me because she went past the same shelf. And I hadn’t seen her walk passed before. The checkout is to my left and the computers to my right. Bathrooms are on the opposite side of the magazine rack.

She smiled at me, and nodded her head. I wonder if she notices me among all the people who come to the library. The strange guy checking her out. The interesting guy with his laptop. The cute guy who gives her the eye. This is all a dream world isn’t it? And I have ten minutes left.

A woman has sat down next to me. She has a brown leather purse, a black coat of soft fabric. And is reading a book. Her short hair is graying and curly.

The hot librarian just stopped to check the clock. Then entered the restroom. Her uniform is a black sleeveless coat, over a blue dress shirt. It hangs lose outside the coat and her pants. It twirls as she moves and flaps as she walks. She will emerge soon. Waiting is the hardest part.

The older lady next to me is reading. She has red plastic rimmed glasses. Along with her purse she carries a white canvass tote bag.

She has exited. She moves so fast it is hard to catch a glimpse. I still don’t know even how old she is, but she may be older than I imagined. Another librarian is putting movies away. The reading lady rest her forehead on her hands, focused on her book. Turning the page.

Her age is visible in the lines on her face.

A young woman just went into the bathroom with a lot of bags. I now have five minutes. And She announced the library closes in 15 minutes. Can I record her voice and play it back later?

Emergency vehicles drive by outside. I am going to post this so I don’t lose it.

The Fool

We are The Fool. We must be or the journey is lost. We enter the adventure blissfully unaware. We enter with out hearts.

The Fool is the first card in the deck. But it is card zero. Because it almost has no home. It floats around every card. The Fool takes us to The Magician. And then to The High Priestess. The journey through the tarot is The Fool’s journey.

In this card we meet our fool. Stepping off a cliff. The figure’s eyes are towards the sky. The Fool is both aware of what is coming, and unaware. Their eyes are on the sky, because their faith is in the path. If you have ever heard: jump and the net will appear. You know the message of the fool.

At the figure’s heal is a small white dog. The dog represents our instincts. They are pure. But they sometimes will be calling us away from the cliff. When we need to go over the cliff. Dogs have long been friends of humanity. And our instincts are our friends. But we are not their slave.

The Fool holds a white rose. This is pure passion. Not only are moving from our hearts. But we are taking the step with a pure passion. Our passion is for life. A passion for growth. Not a passion for death. Away in the distance the cold mountains suggest death. The ice covered slopes showing what becomes of what doesn’t change. Every change in our lives is a step into a new story. A step off a new cliff.

The Fool only carries a small bag on a staff. The tools needed will come along the path. There is so much faith. So much purity of intention in this card.

This card is telling you a change is coming. We will need faith. A leap may be required. It may feel dangerous. But our true hearts know if the path is right. Our pure hearts will guide us. A new love could be entering our lives. It may be the start of a real journey. A new career, or a big change in our current job.

It could also be more simple. A new art project which has meaning of which we aren’t fully aware. Even changes which feel small, are going to have important meanings.

But things will move quick. Open yourself up to risk to be ready. The Fool card always holds a risk. It is Peter learning to walk on the water. You have to be wiling to risk it all for the adventure of your life. Or risk losing your life.

With The Fool anything can happen. Remember only love is real. So the only risk is a risk to our ego.

Moon for Jan. 27

Today is a lucky day. Think big. Dream big. The moon is still in Virgo. Remain focused on details. On career. But don’t just think details. Think about the big picture the details create. The moon trines Mercury. Your mind will be more focused. And your mind and heart aligned. Dream about a new you. Dream about a new life. And think about how to reach this dream. Think big picture. But also details. Pluto also trines the moon. This brings depth of vision. You see what is holding you back in a new way. Maybe you see how to overcome. A path forward may start to form. Take a moment. Pluto is about change, deep change. We need to be wiling to make deep change. This trine will help us see how. At last Jupiter pulls with the moon. They align late afternoon. Our dreams feel¬†possible. Because Jupiter is supporting our faith. The largest planet is the most positive. It tells us we can. It tells us to reach for the stars. Jupiter is a lucky planet. This alignment makes today lucky. Don’t hold yourself back. But don’t lose focus on details either. The path is full of loose stones. Watch your step, every step. If you focus on the distance. You make trip on what is near at hand.

Interregnum

Moving back to Stockton was hard. It was a hard time in my life. M was gone. I never would see her again. The last time I spoke to her was on the phone. I need to wash my hair, she told me. It felt like a brush off. So I just let her go. Let her go. It wasn’t easy. If there was anyone in my life I have loved. It was her. Will I love again. I believe, yes.

In Stockton I recall rain. The weather felt like it was wet and empty. I was living in a tiny room. It was with Mother. We got along well. I wanted to work. Looking for jobs. But I wasn’t able to find anything.

Then I contacted Heather. I felt alone. Things had not gone well the last time. But people change, right? I guess we will see. She came down for a visit. And stayed. I never told her she could stay. But I never told her to leave. She did cause problems with Mother. So we moved to my sister’s house.

My sister’s life was changing as well. And I don’t think us being there made things easy. But she never complained. I love my sister. And whatever happens I know she loves me. We may not always be as close as we were growing up. But I think there is a close bond. Heather was hiding drinking from me. This caused problems with me eventually. But also with my sister and her family.

I was looking for work. And I found something. But it didn’t start for a while. Heather finally moved back to her mother. Then I left and went to Portland. I hitch-hiked up to Oregon, stopping to see Heather’s mother. In Portland I visited Michelle. I lost my wallet. And I re-connected with Heather. But things did not go well, again.

In the end I hitch-hiked east on the I-84. My goal was Boulder and the gathering. The first ride was with a lady going to Idaho. We stopped along the way to explore and old industrial facility. And a burned out house. She dropped me off in Boise.

A couple days later and I was back in Boulder. This was my third visit. I still love Boulder.

I went to the library. The health food store. The park. And did tarot on the street. Thinking back there are many memories from Boulder. And to be sure, I need to just write a chapter about the town. It is one of those places where I feel at home now. Even though it is a place I have never lived. It isn’t cheap.

In Boulder I met a man with a van. He was also going to the gathering. We made plans and I gave him gas money. On the day we were set to leave I met him at the van. There were others I didn’t know also going for the trip. But I hadn’t given him much gas money.

It was seven of us in the van. The driver, me and five others. We set out across the great plains. We stopped in North Platte for gas. And I walked down the street to get a sandwich. It was further than I thought. Coming back I saw trouble a block away.

I saw the gas station. Then I saw the cops pulling into the station.

The cops were there when I got to the van. They were doing their thing. Asking for ID’s and getting information about us. It wasn’t going badly until the driver spoke up. He was from California and had a medical pot card.

Even though I tried to stop him, he made it clear to the cops. They gain interest in him. Re-ran his name. Now, things may have turned out the same. But it didn’t seem like a smart idea bragging about pot use. We weren’t in California. And the federal government didn’t acknowledge medical pot. They came back and arrested him. Not a smart move for the officers if you ask me.

With the driver gone they had six people without a ride. I always thought I would have made a comment suggesting, “listen we have to check this and we’ll be back in an hour. If you’re still here we will arrest you.”

And we would have piled in the van and hit the road. Instead we all had to walk to the freeway. And then try and find other rides. I was stuck with an idiot as a partner hitch-hiking.

For example. One of the longest rides I’ve ever gotten from a non-trucker was on this trip. She was going to her home just outside Minneapolis. But she drove us all the way to the northern border of the state. We were headed to the UP. Over 150 miles and almost three hours driving – one way.

When we got out of the car. He asked her for pot. If he had paid any attention he would have known she was a christian. Not a pot smoker.

At the gathering I met my van driver. He said they took him to another county. They held him for a couple days. And let him go. After the gathering he gave me a ride back to Boulder. But along the way i wanted to visit Mount Rushmore.

The monument is in South Dakota, along one route. We got there and it was amazing. Not like the Grand Canyon. Or like Yosemite or Niagara Falls. But uniquely amazing. This was my first visit. My driver found humor in smoking pot. I walked around, wishing I had a camera. But just experiencing being there.

Back in Boulder I didn’t say for long. I had to get back to California for my job. I hitch-hiked out of town. One of my rides was from Salt Lake City to Mother’s front door. The driver was driving from Boulder to Berkeley. A friendly guy. He told me about speeding at night. On one trip to Boulder he told me about averaging 90 miles per hour. This included time he was stopped for gas. He claimed to have made it in 12 hours.

Back in Stockton I turned up for my new job. A summer camp run by the city. It was actually a life changing moment for me in some ways.