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.