Alex.
When in doubt. Go to the festival. When broke and ticketless. Go to the festival. Where there is a will there is a way. Then we were on the otherside. Inside the festival.

Life finds consistent peaks. Each peak out peaking the previous peak. Each night higher. Regardless of what happened to my pheromones, hormones, emotions, brain cells, skin cells, or thigh muscles Friday night; Saturday night topped it. Emancipator yet again lived up to the name. Freedom. Nicolas Jaar is the man + Griz. Thug Fuckers are more legit than they sound. Which puts them up there in world. Sunday's list was amazingly combined with yet again flying discs. gLAdiator, Giraffage, Gigamesh, Tycho, Pumpkin.

Santa Monica dolphin dive. Never did ocean seem more appealing, cleansing, nor was it approached so quickly. Sprinting across the sand. A miracle really considering the state of our bodies.

Laiken
Laughter and love and booze oozed like a hemophiliac's open sore. All I ever wanted was a crew, lightning was a family. A family of phyzy fluids vacillating between dance and play. Introspection and connection. We annihilated space, but our conquest of time remains - because on Monday we left joy personified at LAX, and watched her walk with filthy bare feet into the concrete abyss.

Where shall we sleep? Where ever we fall over. When does a bed become desirable? When the wet sets in.

Will! The Will I'd already met and always heard about! One day the world might become so small it will get confused and lost. We won't be able to find it.

Button on the beach. Shells and Xacto blades. Never again. Almost waves. But not quite. Discs and skateboards.

WOW! What a great dog!

Noche Frijole! Maybe not. Mojito and Bonfire. Warm tub! I am a prune. Another hour? Morning after. My skin is detaching.

SOPHIA!

Farmers Market. Delerium. So many peaches. Mango peaches, purple peaches. We should have a pet basil plant. Poor logic. That sleep. That lucid property of human requirement. Finally.

Sands. Oceans. Waves. With Spencer, Yess and Tucktail. Lets drive up that sunset mountain. Daria stole my surfboard. CO-OP! Maybe beach rave first. CO-OP! Ginger Beer + veggie chips = great decisions as affirmed by Jimmy. Affirmation required.

In a car. Disoriented. Rocky roads. Civic drifting. Corina in control. Drive it like you stole it. Glitch Mob encouragement. Liquid encouragement. Hot springs! Sulfur. No moon, no light. Tripping, was that a metaphor? Embracing the questions on life, in the liquids of life. Is control an illusion?

Where did this great mustached man come from? Arwin. Dad? He knows where to get the goat. The Horjava. The Chilaquillas.

Fourth of July. Venice. Daria in the Hotel. Rooftop. Fireworks. Champagne. Daria, where did this come from? Dance. Cocktail, where did this come from? Risk vs Reward, where did that come from?
Dancing, Asher's getting married. Maybe not.

First Friday. Venice is not Flagstaff. Where are the artists? They are here every other day, but all I see here are the lookers. Free Compliments. We have a crew! The weirder ones start to combine. Daniel! Yes! A man with heart.

Dawn Patrol. Maybe worth it. Definitely worth it. Sleep later. Ok Sleep now. No. Coffee! Santa Barbara!

Driving through the night has become part silly, part desirable. Leaving Flagstaff at 20:00 should have placed us in Malibu for sunrise. Traffic and a turn dropped us an hour back. We still ended up where we needed. Underwater, sitting on resin. Sand and Seaweed.
Malibu is hard for me to rhyme with. There is a slight discomfort. So we keep the trip moving. Over the hills. Into Simi Valley. Back to Malibu. A wild Asher appears.