The time it takes for video to upload doesn't weigh out with the time it takes to write in my journal. Which is now. So suffice these pictures. Except to say that I got David Rawlings doing "a port monteau sandwich" of This Land is Your Land inside It's Too Easy. And Gillian Welch's head matching the Japanese maple on the side of the stage. We were so close. Turns out Hardly Strictly has an amazing disabled seating area. And it was filled with bluegrass fans/wheelchairs riders, senior hippies post Joan Baez set and all folks in between. Many of the people from the disability access day at the de Young ramped it on over there. Panning to Anna who was knitting something fuchsia. No 3 legged dogs this year, or pet chickens but a cat who rode on an old vet's wheelchair and consulted with him on whether it was best to stay for Steve Earl being as how the fog was going across the grass like dirty cotton balls and there'd been no sun since morning. A good way to get over my sadness that the old weather is back, small ribbon of Indian summer, the only summer there is in SF, vanished. This seasonal return, of being at Hardly Strictly with a kind crowd. And the fog, pulling the eucalyptus smell from the trees (strung with bikes) and the red sand and banjos.
, where this blog lives now. because it can be read and posted to through that app, one-handed, on my back, by a body of water, or in the cool olive green light above my mattress. This is articulation my spine had not dreamed of before. Tweets by @thebodypoetik
My blog lived on Tumblr for a minute
because it is so much easier to access from my phone. fallinginrealtime.tumblr This is the feed. No, I don't like it. I can't add another virtual box. I'll make due with Twitter.