So what if I just want the old design back? Can I get it?
Hanging out at the salon again today, still working on the Bali sketches. The more I write, I write the more. Strange phenomenon. Only begin, as Goethe said:
Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute;
What you can do, or dream you can do, begin it;
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.
Met a friend down at the beach last night. Very windy. First time I've seen that here. But not cold. Mild. Mild enough for shorts and shirt sleeves. The wind was picking up the white on the breakers and making it feel like light rain. I could not determine what was more beautiful--her eyes or the ocean.
Beauty here in general comes at you constantly from every direction, in every season, at every hour of the day and night. It rides on the wind, weaving through the palm trees on the sea shore, ambles up the path to the town, lingers outside the warungs, looking in for a moment, then makes it's way through the crowded pasar, rearranging hats and headdresses along the way. It sneaks along the alleyways, ruffling stray dogs, sniffing at the garbage bins, smudging the chalken slogans on the wall. It dreams with you at night, wakes with you in the morning.