About to depart

July 31, 2018



In less than 12 hours I will have left Bocsa. I made the decision a few days ago. In many ways I wish I could just stay, and in all truth I could stay longer, it always is a big question; stay or go?  When there are deadlines it is easy, all is decided for you.  When you depend on your inner guidance system, it’s another type of knowingness.  I was going to leave last week but the night I decided to go I hurt my back, so that was a definite: “can’t go now” so I postponed for a few days but now it feels like it’s time, well somehow it is never time to leave this place… I will dearly miss Ami and Marti and all the puppies and the cat. The life here is out of time and into its own pace.  We create the reality from our beliefs and what these two have created here is almost a parallel universe that I greatly enjoy.  Ami has been from the first instant like a sister to me, she has been a true angel, to leave her behind is quite difficult, it’s always difficult to leave the people who accept you totally and fully.  But I do feel that, yes, it is time to go, continue on.
My itinerary: August first, I will take a bus from Resitsa, Romania to Sofia, Bulgaria. I will sleep there overnight, enjoy a free breakfast at the hostel and take the 9 AM bus to Istanbul. I chose not to stop and visit Sofia (which I have never been too before) to save money. The Euros go a much longer way in Turkey than they do on the road. It might have been nice to visit Sofia but I can easily come back to Bulgaria in the fall, after the tourist season when I will head north again.  everything will be cheaper and if all goes well, my finances will be stronger. I should arrive in Istanbul late afternoon on the second of August and I have a bed for two nights, after that I will have to see where my fate takes me, by mid month I should head to Yalova for the Workaway.  It will be interesting to see how I feel after being away for 6 months, after have experienced Europe, north America and Eastern Europe, and observe how these different perspective will affect my perception of Istanbul when I experience it anew.

Today I had a counselling session with the firm doing my bankruptcy, one of those compulsory things required by law. I hoped for “counselling” but was a bit on the light side with the usual warnings “don’t buy what you want, buy what you need”. But in a way the session gave me a feeling that I have passed a landmark. That the process of bankruptcy is completed, that I now can close that chapter and advance to the next.
I heard last night that this August is a time to:

-Pay attention to your dreams, the ones you have while sleeping that is.

-Bring back the energies that you gave away, like old relationships, contracts, agreements

-Simplifying, unifying: Like beliefs, if they complicate life, let them go.
All those rang true,  and on all of those, I will spend time observing and learning.


How does a seed feel when it is in the earth and senses the sun heating the earth? How does the seed envision his journey?  How does he relishes in his collaboration with the earth, the solar system, the world of plants and animals it belongs to?

I feel I am a seed in the earth and the early spring sun is starting to caress the earth. Some rain washes down to me in my earthly darkness and I begin to feel the call to expand and grow and can start imagining the blooms I will carry.

Breathe deeply and not worry so much. The plan was laid out a long time ago, my presence here is purposeful even if at times I cannot quite understand what it is. There is a lot of love around me, a lot of allies ready to lend a hand, ready to just be there for me.  To be like the plant, the tree, the bird, the cats… be excited to be born, or reborn in my case, in this time and world and honor this gift of life every moment by being fully in it.


Much love




my own eclipse

July 28, 2018



Write. Write some more. My last post was full of incompleteness; half expressed ideas, typos, and a lack of development for some ideas which lead to vagueness. I realized this after re-reading one or two days later.  I have not been writing much and it seems that writing is like singing, the lack of practice makes the communication somewhat clumsy.

My dear childhood friend Joan said to me:  je vois ton Blog comme un livre, comme un dessin, comme une peinture, comme une sculpture. Tu y ajoute de tes photographies. Avec ton écriture tu construis ton présent et ton future. Ton Blog c’est ton partage avec l’Univers.

Her words underline a thought that is starting to install itself as a modus operandi in my psyche.:  Just create, just be, don’t worry about grades and ratings, the beauty of this world lays in the fact that all of us are creating the most amazing work of art they possibly can:  their own selves. It’s not the best selling albums, the award winning projects or the kick ass job, it is about following one’s heart into a personal journey that one had determined to take.  This thought process is freeing me from the guilt of existing and from the unrelenting obsession to be the best.  (it’s always been “be the best or be a disgrace” for me, the competitive streak that is a scourge in our western world)

I sit here again, in this Romanian home, love birds singing endlessly, dogs barking endlessly, the sound of a saw in the distance, a car rolls by… my laptop hums and the keys click.

Last week I hurt my back, yet again. Ami finally convinced me to go to a doctor. I don’t care going to doctors because they just all do the same thing: prescribe anti-inflammatory pills, pain killers and then declare that your condition is impossible to heal. I went just to see, she said he was a different kind of doctor, he’s been taking care of her family since she is a teen. So we drove to Resitsa. On a zig-zagging road through the Romania hills, it’s gorgeous, so totally, fully, absolutely green. As we drove she was pointing at her favorite sights, trees on a hill, gave me bits of her own personal history and some local tidbits.

In 1948 Romania was turned into a communist country. (the revolution came in 1989 to overthrow the regime)  So far the towns I have seen bear the marks of that passage. Small historic areas surrounded by these massive, artless blocs of concrete, built in a hurry around some gargantuan building that is the local industry. Here it is steel. In Resitsa they first got a large contingent of men to work. They were plucked from all around the country then dropped here to these apartments and a job but… no women. The leaders of the time finally realized that things were just not going to work out like that and they built another big building that was to house the women’s workplace: Sewing confections. So the town grew around that over the years. The city is full of architectural incongruities, the communist era buildings make me woozy with discomfort just looking at them.  The coolest sites are the nearly abandoned industrial facilities that look like steampunk creations, rusted or mossed over facilites surrounded by a furiously productive Mother nature.


So in town we stopped at the doctor’s office, we wait for a little bit in the waiting room, they call her name, then some time later they call me. The doctor is a middle aged man, bright, sharp eyes that see you in one go. He speaks some English, Ami serves as a translator for the rest. He gets a blood pressure apparatus and takes my pressure. It has been at least 8 or 9 years since my pressure was taken, it feels odd. Something over 9, I didn’t understand the numbers but he says it is low. It always is low, so no surprise here. Then he asks about my back, I explain and in a few minutes he diagnoses that a disc compresses the nerves when, from time to time, it moves. I had guessed something close to that. He prescribes anti-inflammatory medication, pain killer and declares that there is no hope in improving that. Sounds familiar. But he’s a really kind person. I am glad to have met him. We are sent on our way to the pharmacy with a shopping list of pills; Anti-inflammatory pills, pills to calm the stomach from the pills for the pain, pills for calming the liver and vitamin B.

We drive back and visit more of the town. It goes from industrial to green. We pass a group of workers up in a park, they are redoing the road, I counted 13 of them and of all of them, 1 was working, another had his shirt up an immense beer belly, they were all aligned side by side, chatting seemingly having a great time. Back in town I meet Ami’s mom and grand mother.  Her grand mother is bright and sharp.  She strongly disapproves of my tattoo:  how could I mar the work of art my mother made when she gave birth to me!  When Ami explains that the tattoo’s design comes from my deep passion for horses, she revises her opinion and says it’s OK.  Before leaving I felt compelled to give her a pine cone from California I had been carrying in my bag since June.  She was asking about the Sequoias, she loves trees and plants and nature.  She asked how long it took to cross the continents, she really liked the 14 hour idea, as if it gave the cone even more value.



Back at the table here, I am encircled by notebooks, papers filled with lists, numbers and dreams.  I am at ground zero.

Recently I filed for bankruptcy.  Last January was when I realized how deeply in trouble I was. It came slowly and I did not see it coming. I started to cognate on how it happened in June after I talked to a friend in California, she told me how she almost died because she had been bleeding pools of blood daily. As she recounted the when, how, why I was shocked to see that I suffered in parallel something similar to her except that I was bleeding  heavily for almost a year, but not as much as her, so I did not end up in critical care at he ER. Her words were like mirrors where her condition mirrored my own, I recognized that I had slowly entered and coursed along a kind of tunnel where I became weaker and weaker continually, getting more overwhelmed and unable to do much more than crawling along, going for coffee and vaguely hoping for an epiphany of some sort that would get me out of this torpor.

The daily loss of blood stopped somewhere in late 2017.  Following that, my strength started to increase. It feels now that I am just getting to be “normal” I still find it hard to put in 8 hour days but it is improving gradually. I give myself shots of B12 that I started doing on the urgings of a crazy 92 year old pharmacist I met at Kripps pharmacy in Vancouver.  He decreed after looking in my eyes and face that I needed those shots and right there on the spot he had me pull my pants down and he demonstrated how to self administer the injections.

I was finally able to connect the dots in retrospect.  I then understood what took place, I saw how my increasing weakness led to my finances discombobulating and how I found myself where I am today: bankrupt.

But don’t go feel sorry for me. I do believe that all happens for a reason, a purpose. Like the way this pharmacist appeared, other angels or agents of change appeared and helped and guided me. Finding myself in this position now allows me the opportunity to experience yet another incarnation within this lifetime. I have been confused, scared, freaked out, slightly giddy from the height of the uncertainty more than once for the last while. Thinking of how I achieved all that I have achieved in my life, the albums, the awards, the successes, the business, the motorcycle journey, etc, etc. to then observe the fact that I could not make the simplest decision for the most mundane things. How I could be so blind to my own circumstance is stupefying.

So now what?

I keep asking that question over and over. What do I want? Whaaat doooo iiiii want?  What DO I want? I am 54, homeless, jobless, just barely in health to do something, bankrupt. I have a ton of skills but I am not so sharp with them right now. My computer skills are 8 years behind, my ability to work long hours is not there yet, my music skills feel irrelevant and are very rusty, I feel great about my art skills, I see that there are many opportunities to expand and grow but it is all pretty much but a spark in my mind now. I’ve been contemplating, pondering, questioning and maybe one thing is clear.  I need a space to focus, a place to heal and work at the same time.

I want a work space, and some time. Gee I feel guilty just writing that.  I want time to study to upgrade some skills, time to prepare a portfolio, time to finish the few jobs I have for the 2 clients I have. Then I need peace, to be able to focus and bear down. I need to make a strategy for myself that I can execute step by step so I extricate myself out of this hole and make enough income to graduate into a sort of “chez-moi”, a home where I would be able to afford to care for myself to the point where I am strong enough to let out all the creative ideas I have brewing inside.


At the very moment, getting an apartment is not an option, but I am hoping that in the next 4 weeks I can find something temporary to get to my “phase 1: Rising above zero altitude” plan and following that, entering “phase 2: Catch the air under the wings” where I would actually be in flight, heading somewhere, implementing my creative vision.

Don’t feel bad or sorry, send me a virtual high five, good thoughts, prayer or anything that would send some light my way.

Life is extraordinary.


Thoughtful in Romania

July 24, 2018


Tuesday July 24th. I have been a nomad for 10 months, I mean by that that I have not had my own home since September 2017.  In September 2017 I gave up my room in Kasimpasa, gave up my bed and all unnecessary things to fit my life into a backpack and head out into the world.  At first it was going to be a vacation, but then I crossed the Atlantic to Canada, returned to Istanbul to move to Ayvalik for a few months, then I camped in Istanbul for 2 months, then it was France, Italy, Czech Republic, Romania, USA, Poland and Romania again and in between all this passing through a long list of countries and cities.

I now sit in Romania, in a fairly dark room at the front of Ami’s house, in a village called Bocsa. It is quiet, peaceful, I hear birds, dogs, a tractor go by, a chain saw in the distance, the daily train with its wistful whistle.  I am surrounded by a cat, 3 dogs and a litter of puppies, with me are two other Workawayers, one from Russia the other from America and of course Ami and Marti.  The life is idyllic.  No rush, no stress, much much love and caring.

I have been wanting to write for a while but held myself back because In 24 days, on August 17th a long awaited answer will come. I felt I had to stay silent until then but I decided to compromise and be silent about some things and speak about others.

In California Pat told me that he thought I should continue writing this blog, others did too. I have been ambivalent about it, wondering the value of writing all these personal things on a completely public platform. Nowadays there are a plethora of writers who have so much to say about everything and anything and so much of it just a self centered light on oneself.  Is it necessary?  Like my music, again, ambivalence, yet people tell me it is good for them, that it has value, my music like the blog at times feel to me as  such a selfish sort of activity.

Lately I have been reading Jane Roberts’ books, more specifically the Seth books. In those I have found fundamentally different point of view on our existence here in this dimension, as humans on this earth. What if all was absolutely perfect, down to the oil spills and the tyrants? What if my life is not some random accident of a faile contraceptive process and that all was meant to be? What if all of us are not accidents? What if we all chose to be here to experience our glorious journeys?

In those books, (the nature of reality, the magical way, the nature of mass events) the describes the multidimentional reality of human life, the immense power we have, the two “frameworks” from which we exist and create into this world, the 3 dimensional life, living reality that we know and the inner dimension where the intelligence of the cells, the body, its connection to the intellect and to the world and the universe and other dimensions of live where we lead parallel lives, experiences.  The multitudinous layers of the self, the soul.

Our thoughts create reality. we’ve all heard this and we say we believe in them, but we keep following and reacting to our beliefs without questioning them, we sometimes fight bitterly for them instead of really looking at them. The way many of us accept and surround their lives with “news” “information” that carry so much negative and violent, hopeless data without realizing that these will inhabit the mind and color all thoughts, hence continually re-create their reality.

In my nomadic life, I decided not to focus on the news. Partly that decision came after reading Emile Zola’s 20 tomes of the Rougon Macquart family. In there he describes over a few generations the life of a family.  We follow the different characters, rich, poor, doctors, farmers, politicians, business owners, etc.  all through the 19th Century. One of my big light bulb moment was that I was reading about the exact same problems we complain about today with the exact same words.  Nothing has changed but the clothing and the technology. Why? I think it is because our culture is basically the same.  We accept the same philosophies, expect the same results, complain about the same problems and never stop to observe and change our societal process.  We react to things with the same types of violence, reproduce the same inequalities and then we say “that’s just the way it is” denying the immense power of creation and ability innate to the human race stuck between dogmatic religious ideas and rigid narrow minded scientific dogma that leaves any “un-provables” out of the equation.

I see in my own life, I see these kinds of patterns where I have not been able to observe, understand and consciously make a decision of change, where accepted cultural habits and mores direct my thoughts and actions with automaticity. I also observe that where I decide to change, change occurs.

from this nomadic standpoint, I cannot hold on to much of anything that will fit in my backpack.  Neither can I hold on to too many cultural ideologies as I cross a full landscape of countries and cultures.  I have to adapt.  That allows me to be more detached from the materiality of life. One of the first things I had to let go of was fear. Hypnotized by fear I am sure to fail, to let myself down.  Following that, I have to let go of  the concepts of being weak or lesser or not good enough, again, if I think that way, it’s an instant plunge into a whirlpool of insecurity where there are no options.

From that same nomadic standpoint what becomes also unavoidable is that joy of being appreciative of the beauty, the excitement of being alive in the very moment.  The taste of food, the feeling of a good bed or a hot shower. The goodness of people, the perfection of the happenstance of the moments that unfurl one after another.

When I rode my motorcycle, into this solo meditative bliss, I became really good at being at peace with everything. It was when I came back to live a ‘normal’ life with people that I was deeply challenged.  How to live with people?  It was very difficult, I ran into all sorts of reactions and situations, from lust to anger, to desire, envy, all sorts of behaviors that felt suddenly so alien and incomprehensible. I fought, ran away, cried and raged and ran the gamut of human misemotions, trying to deal with this.

Realizing one’s native spiritual power allows one to witness the impact one’s decisions making power on one’s environment.  To absorb the full 360 degree meaning of the Law of Attraction, Thoughts Become Things, and Your Thoughts Create Your Reality.  That means not just of the conscious wishes of material rewards like “I want a new car” but to understand that every thought, from your daily complaints to your usual expectations about life, to the automaticisms built-in  by culture and education, to the unconscious suggestions left by media, movies, books, music and on and on.  The reality we live in is the construct of all the members of its society and we are part builder in there.  The dreams then become tools of change, very powerful tools of change if we allow them to exist.
Very soon I will be heading south, to Turkey, at the moment I plan to stay 3 months, the allowed number of days with my passport. The Turkish residence permit rules are being changed again, I am not sure that I can repeat the process I used before; a touristic purposes residence permit. They say now that you should attain your touristic goals within a year (!) I do see their point! I have already found 3 Workaway hosts: an organic farm in Yalova, an artist studio-shop in Kas and a small horse farm near Antalya, all places I wanted to discover. At the moment I am working at organizing them over the 3 months period.  I will also spend some time in Istanbul , there are friends I really want to see and things I still wish to discover.

I am dreaming of a work space, a well lit studio where I could create, I see the white walls and the big windows, something small, simple, with a tiny cooking space and bathroom not far from nature, ideally right in the middle of it!  I don’t know where that space is yet. But I trust it will appear when the time is right and I will know that I have arrived.

Much love.