This morning I woke early so I could take the 7:00 bus (one of two per day) to Albenga. I managed to miss the bus...I thought it would come on the other side of the road than it did...duh...so I walked a couple of km down the mountain and then hitched a ride to Albenga. The guy who picked me up dropped me off a few km from the center of town so I walked, which felt good.

The bus back to Vesallo happens at 12:55 and again at 18:30. Before catching the earlier bus I walked around Albenga's old city parts of which date from ancient Rome. I bought food. I sat at the station and waited for the bus.

I was sitting on a cement bench leaning against the urn at the end with my legs stretched out on the bench. A motorcycle cop drove by, stopped and glared at me. I put my feet on the ground and then he drove off. Wow. That was weird. Maybe I was violating some etiquette but most likely the cop was just uptight and being officious, as many uniformed people often do.

A correction...I am in the village of Vesallo in the town of Castelbianco in the province of Savona in the region of Liguria.

I leave for Israel on Thursday. truthfully, I am feeling a bit daunted by the intense set of workshops I'm scheduled to do. I feel a little shaky. I cranked through a lot of energy in March and self doubt rears its head now.

I know the work and I know I can do it, and there is ample reassurance from the invisible forces that I am on the right path, but I am not feeling strong today. The sadness is flowing. I know from experience that this makes space for more to move through me, and is in fact part of the process of creativity, but it doesn't feel good at the moment. I miss my friends. I will be with friends again soon.

Odd as it may be, I seem to have become an extravert. People who have known me for a while will laugh. I appreciate time alone for quiet and for creative work, but I really enjoy most things more when sharing the experience with a friend. With family really...and I count a lot of people as family. I guess one of the things that brings up the sadness is being around a lot of people and not sharing that sense of family with them in some open way. I'm kind of like a little kid that way.

Here are some more photos!.

Wow. I am in Italy in a stone house on a hill facing a valley of steep cliffs and ancient terraced herb and tree gardens.

The journey was intense. Train from Schiedam to Amsterdam, train from Amsterdam to Milano through Bonn and Frankfurt and Mannheim, Basel, Vienna...all places I have heard of all my life and not yet visited. Chloe the cat had some rough times with the travel until I figured out (with encouragement from a friend thank you!) to use the leash halter thingy I have. She rode in my lap from Holland to Italy and that was fine. Schlepping the disintegrating duffle tied together with rope weighing 50 pounds and a drum bag and a computer knapsack and a cat in a cat cage...this was challenging, but we did it!

I went to the TIM store in Milano station and got a gsm phone and a usb internet modem similar to the one I have in the US, so I can do my online work here. Woo hoo!!

Here are some photos.

30 March 2008
10:00 on the platform in Schiedam waiting for the train, heading to Amsterdam. I'm seeing people, and feeling the oneness. I experience us as the same. Eyes meet, or not, we are in proximity more or less. I notice how much energy we spend pretending we don't know each other, pretending we are not the same, pretending that we do not recognize our cousins.

22:00 on the train from Amsterdam back to Schiedam, listening to Yoko Ono Kiss, Kiss, Kiss. People get on and off. We are soft flexible life forms in these metal serpents speeding over this marshy place, each with our own stories heading to our own place. In this expansive micro-moment of universal time waves of light and particles of universe coalesce into our experiences, us wearing bodies moving through space time, many times believing the stories to be definitive, when they are really just flashes of motion, some of which we can sway with our intentions, and flow with, or not.

I don't know why this is happening to me, but I am changing. The word that best describes what I am becoming is "transparent." Not so much in the visual way of being seen through, but more like..I feel like life is flowing through me, and is less obstructed than in the past. Not so much gets stuck and stays with me.