.Sherowski Daily.

Hello how are you? All is well here but I’m in transit again. More traveling for work: sunburn, chapped lips, a little hangover…yes all is generally well and I’ll report more on the escapades later. However, I just wanted to tell you folks, especially those souls living in the greater Colorado area, that my big sister is having a big art show in about a week’s time. It is, in fact, her first art show, and you know, there’s only one first—so git yourself there and bring your checkbook. Does anyone still have a checkbook anymore? I dunno.

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A poem by Jack Kerouac:

How to Meditate

-lights out-
fall, hands a-clasped, into instantaneous
ecstasy like a shot of heroin or morphine,
the gland inside of my brain discharging
the good glad fluid (Holy Fluid) as
i hap-down and hold all my body parts
down to a deadstop trance-Healing
all my sicknesses-erasing all-not
even the shred of a “I-hope-you” or a
Loony Balloon left in it, but the mind
blank, serene, thoughtless. When a thought
comes a-springing from afar with its held-
forth figure of image, you spoof it out,
you spuff it off, you fake it, and
it fades, and thought never comes-and
with joy you realize for the first time
“thinking’s just like not thinking-
So I don’t have to think
any
more”

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This just in: seed packets are buy two, get on free at Fred Meyer right now. I’ve got a pretty big operation going in my back yard. Small pots, big pots, metal pots, terra cotta, old, new, etc. etc. I also have a vegetable garden bed that I”ll be making moves on this weekend. This summer is all about growing food. Forget plants for decoration—if you can’t eat it, I don’t want it. Oh, and forget “starters,” if you’re not growing it from seed, you’re cheating!

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More traveling times for me. I have legs, a backpack, and a tax return, and so I just couldn’t stay home anymore. We logged onto the Internet where they were purveying cheap ticket/hotel packages to Honolulu, and along with all the other spring breakers of the world, we just did it. I mean, isn’t it awesome that you can just do that?

It was a great trip, front to back. Four nights in the Waikiki Sands and four days hopping around from beach to beach like bunnies from meadow to meadow. Or whatever. Our super cheap-spring break lodging was absolutely fine by our modest standards, with the exception of one thing: permanently attached plastic mattress covers. I mean they were under the sheet, but you still felt like you were sleeping on a big diaper. Turning over in the middle of the night? “Scrinkle scrrumple schlurp!” went the mattress diaper. Sometimes the sheet would come untucked and recede, at which point your leg would stick to the plastic mattress, followed by a swampish suction noise upon removal. Gross.

This was our main and only business!

Anyway, the sun was blazing, and lobsterhood awaited our pale northwest bodies. I watched as Lance swigged on a cold lager and roasted happily in the golden heat. “Did you put sunscreen on?” “No, I”ll be fine! Don’t we want to get some sun?” These, my friends, are famous last words. If you happen to see him around town in the next few days, you’ll see what I mean. But whatever, I’ll get off my SPF 55 high horse ’cause regardless I still got skewered by UVs, too.

Sunset was the nicest time of day—lovely light and sweet soft air.

Señorita Sherowski.

Honestly we coveted this guy’s vacation awesomeness. The shades, the shorts, the shirt—all killing it.

So loud down here—blasting wind, pounding surf, lots of power in the air molecules.

Unintentional boob grab … or is it?!

Pineapple plantations and sugarcane fields growing from the red island earth. We drove up to the North Shore and each mile we passed through was a new view, another crazy natural creation. So so cool.

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I’m no pansy but I like walking down avenues canopied with cherry blossoms. It’s nice when the gutters are choked with petals—instead of dirty snow, instead of wet newspaper, instead brown wet leaf muck. You’d have to be a real hard-ass to not enjoy this. It’s weird because when something’s gone haywire in your life, when you miss someone, when you’re not sure what to do from here, when there’s a thought you know you shouldn’t think but your brain keeps coming back around to it again and again like a black lab to a table of donuts no matter how many times you yell, “No!”, well, you can finally just fucking relax for second and walk down the street to feel transformed.

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Little man gone missing! Last seen on Tuesday morning. Despair! If it was Cougs, I wouldn’t be worried—she’s savvy and street-wise. But Captain? He’s terrified of the vacuum cleaner and once got hooked through the upper lip whilst playing with Traci’s fishing pole. A dummy. Not to mention that he’s never even spent an entire night outside by himself. Anyway, it’s been four days. We posted “missing kitten” signs this morning. It’s very sad stuff. Maybe you’ve seen him? Maybe he made his way to your house and has been feasting on creamed salmon? Please let me know.

In other news, my Spain story, the one I wrote about last winter’s adventure through the Pyrenees, has been posted to the Transworld site. If you have a moment, paddle over and peep it out. Also, I made my first iMovie video (with the help of Lance) using some elph footage from Kyrgyzstan. It’s exceptionally amateur. Have a look and don’t be too hard on me, ’cause I’m a crap filmer who never claimed to be good at anything having to do with cameras. That being said—enjoy!

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