Patterned thoughts going through my head, off and on this past week of major change, being back in the valley yet again. My career took off here, just down the way nearby Central, by Thomas, Stevens Creek, Mathilda and Lawrence.. and during every cycle when I left, surely never to return!

One cannot escape the loop. Is it truly Sisyphean if the endless hill is worn flat, the endured evolved into appreciation for its challenge? The illusion then shows its edge, beautiful, glinting reflections from facets ever-changing, neverending.

Another World, Another Time, in the Age of Wonder..

When single shines the triple sun, What was sundered and undone, Shall be whole, the two made one..

Where abouts this time last year? Vancouver, prepping round two of treatment. How about in 2017? Fiji island hopping, searching for demise. Back when in 2012? Where else but Nicoya, seeking refuge. Or decades ago, seasons ago, seeking solace among the silence of snowy peaks alone.

All of those years, the endless dreams, and seemingly endless sunrises… yet memory is the illusion, the vector maps of neurotransmitter mixtures changing over time. Still yet, we have no magnetic tapes at Iron Mountain which could store them all.

Perhaps that malleability is the most beautiful quality of which growing older finally affords.

At airport gate, waiting. Originally, a dawn departure.

Hilton at ORD decides that rooms do not need the usual bathroom items, and prefers the full plastic half-assed attempt at a capsule pod coffee maker. Substantial displeasure occurs, events transpire, and now we’re rebooked on flight a few hours later — sleeping in for those hours and have been – words and thoughts – but brain still not really awake. Robin is finding coffees somewhere on the concourse.

ETA, 2 hours till movers arrive, in yet another episode of… “Take only what you need to survive”, and they’re packing up everything else for transit. Countdown to California thereafter.

Goodbye to another location. I suppose that I could say that Chicago was beneficial in the larger sense of existential purposes, and that much was accomplished, sure sure.

However, and not in jest, nearly the entirety of those accomplishments could have occurred in an old military quonset hut located off-grid, deep in the vast stretches of the Northern Nevada desert, preferably near the Ruby Mountains. It’s far more beautiful out there, truly yes, but the pizza is not delivered, and Chicago does have very good pizza. 🤍