"I try not to eat those vain apricots with a sugarcube at thier core
While grandma rests in the parlor.
Hoping that one moment they will be transformed,
Reborn as the heart of a glorious fluffy knoodle from the boiling water."
- Imagined Ostriech Veda, Gorustic

Late at night after Sara, her boyfriend (of 7 years!) Stephen, her grandparents have all gone to bed. I just got done practicing the Daf drum and the Kena flute in the cellar until Sara came down to let me know the high notes of the Kena were carrying up the stairwell. Today it rained nonstop until late evening. This was totally in tune with my sore body, tense burnt neck, tight left knee ligament, sore throat. I struggled through a short yoga session, uncharacteristically being able to focus in the Shivasana my energies tingling up towards my neck for healing. After a tour around the house (showing several sketch pieces done by her Grandfather where he used a wonderfully simple fat, sensual line to render Italian cityscapes) I led my first yoga session with Sara and Stephan as the students and gained a new appreciation for how difficult it is to do, demonstrate, watch and talk coherently all at the same time.

The character of the Austrian countryside? - Control and consistency is the key here. Perfectly ordered world like a fairytale book; little trains, houses, people. Everyone giving and getting what they expect, enjoying the consistency of the routine exchanges, the efficiency and stability of their way.

In this house everything works perfectly - all is old and wood, aestheticly rustic yet avant garde with minimal squeaking: chairs that whisper when dragged accross the floor, doors and cabinets that fit in their jambs, good lighting, perfection.

I have some feelings swirling around inside which say I miss the chemistry with Anita, I miss the thrill of chasing and catching beautiful women -- but why, contrary to all my stated lofty goals is that the thing which keeps lighting my action fires? Two passages:

" The deer speaks to king Ibrahim saying " you were not created for this chase. This deer body did not take shape out of nothingness , so that you might hunt. Supposing you catch me, will that be enough? ... God lives between a human being and the object of his or her desire. " Its all a mystical journey to the friend." (discourse number 44, Rumi)

"Dont run around this world, looking for a hole to hide in... if you live with mice, the cat claws will find you. The only real rest comes when you are alone with God." (Tending Two Shops, Barks, Rumi)

"The light you give did not come from a pelvis." (The Dog in the Doorway, Barks, Rumi)

The summer has grown so old and I am in the home of Art's clarity.
The sky is white with rain and no destination in mind. Even to just head like a shot towards The Netherlands, visit my parents, get to the UK and Findhorn, before mid-september seems impossible. Panic but also an alarming lack of worry. To do:

- Prepare equipment, buy stove, fix cart/ bike seat
- Type up Eastern Europe Notes and picture captions
- ID trajectory (eg exit point to visit Mom and Dad in Italy, prep them on my not coming home for Christmas.)