What do I need money for beyond the obvious? — peanut butter, coffee, some food, gasoline. I have enough books, and my ragged clothes are exactly the rags the Buddha wore strolling back into the market place, “How can I help?” on his silent lips. There is, I think, a planetary generosity living lean. Me and Henry David. On birthdays I send money to my four grandkids and my son Spenser.
“You may be eloquent as a river tipping steadily over into a falls, but what would all your explanations reveal?” – David Hinton
I’m sitting in a Starbucks in NE (Northeast) writing, thinking this is the first time (within 12-plus PDX years) I’ve written in the NE. Dylan’s on the system singing, “Don’t think twice, it’s alright.” But I have thought twice, and realized that when I first moved to Portland in January ’09 I would walk down Burnside to a Starbucks and write every day, waiting to find a job. And, as Burnside divides SE from NE, and as that Starbucks was on the north side of the street, it turns out I began my Portland life wildly writing in NE.
The idea of symmetry has sat on my mind lots lately.
from a mountain bench 
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