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Monthly Archives: August 2012

Niki & The Dove’s “Instinct” is a cosmic pajama party on Noah’s astral ark, the wild rompus of a generation beyond space and dislocated in time, fourth dimensional imaginauts on the shores of the fifth, neon strobes and glitter glass, hair (yours and others’) whipping in your face, sweaty dark funk breaking into crisp twilight air; the tart swell of love’s tactile brush, nerves plummeting to numb sensation, heartbeats reverb across the skin of shared souls, a hail of gemstones in the heart of mythic Amazon: Hakuna Matata on MDMA and mushrooms; a lullaby to love, counting unicorns divorcing night-mares, holding out for something better and that something is now, falling up into the static abyss, the bliss of hypnotic Doing, conscious unconsciousness: an infinite and fleeting “yes,” the promise of always as forever in its utterance.

Travel is always a creative exercise, the mind is attuned to the brain in active and constant generation of paradigm, every moment of travel highlighting something new, however minor, however inconsequential, a schism of experience in the crystalline bubble of our world view, shattered and reconstructed in a new subjective, a new sliver of self, ruptured & reborn in the next most insignificant impulse of experience. Travel keeps the mind and body sharp, keen, attuned to matter where being home gives to familiarity, presumption, and the body and mind grow comfortable and slovenly, secure in aggregate matters of the past, a home to read them their own history. Travel, defined in its unfamiliarity, awakens life to the creative investment of the world, to the shaping faculty of experience itself. Travel is good.

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