It’s hot. So hot that the coconut quietly resting (napping, no doubt) on the outside table cracked, spilling its water everywhere. I was planning to make milk from the meat for this or that dinner but crying wasn’t an option (making fresh coconut milk is a thoroughly enjoyable process – and when the milk turns out well one has every right to feel proud). The nearby spring’s flow has diminished even as the average temperature rises, and I wouldn’t want to be accused of wasting water. So, after munching on mature coconut flesh for lunch it became apparent that a trip to poblacion was in order. It was just too hot to sit in that metal coffin of a house any longer.

It’s been three months, give or take, since the last monthly update. While it was good to write once a month the inevitable occurred – it became a chore, one more difficult to perform with each installment. There were several reasons for that (one of which was not a loss of desire to share this experience, somehow, with you). One, the end of the month doesn’t necessarily correlate with an occurrence of import or interest, two, I never actually asked if anyone wanted to receive them, and three, increasingly more difficult issues with development, politics, et cetera were/are swirling around my brain making it hard to maintain an accurate portrayal of my psyche/life – both internally and externally. The last letter I tried to type was decidedly negative, though my feelings were not fully lodged on that end of the spectrum – it just so happened that the thoughts then entertained required, uhm, less than sunny language. Negative thoughts need to be aired; unfortunately I found the context of the monthly update too uncomfortable to proceed. So I stopped.

Here we are now. After much thought on how to continue, I decided that this format, i.e. blog, would be a more appropriate medium to voice my thoughts and opinions with interested persons. The weblog seems infinitely more flexible and adaptable to both the environment in which I live and the types of things worth talking about - that is terribly important. I can update the page from any computer with Internet access – meaning, no longer do I have to prearrange access to my office (this will hopefully allow the creative juices to flow making for a less clinical and sterile reading experience). You can visit at your leisure, read what you want, and leave without having to download files or anything else (especially if my updates were arriving unwanted – finally, guilt free!). My ambition is to write something every other week or so, as the muse dictates or my mom requests.

I’d like to have a picture component to this page at some point, and am still exploring options. If anything changes, this’ll be the place to find out. For now, text only is fine – I’ll just have to try and paint pictures with words. Here, we’ll give it a shot: the sky, the color of troubled ocean, outlines the diminutive frame of an old man – possibly older than dirt. He may actually be dirt, it’s hard to tell due to the cracks and fissures etched into the heels of his feet, canyon-like in their own right, big toes pigeon-toed until parallel with his nipples from never wearing shoes. Despite the heat his cloths are decidedly mountain – torn jeans, dusty from passing trucks, and a “Pantera” shirt covered by a second hand flannel. This strange marriage between Seattle and Texas is not often seen outside the US - I feel lucky. Obviously, the Pantera shirt was purchased at a concert. His eyes, bloodshot by age and alcohol, are squinting slits as he proudly displays teeth to make a dentist faint – “Yes!” he says as I pass by on a bike, “Always and forever!” Yup. Always and forever.