Come with me for a moment, away from the roar of mad thinking and the crush of despair – there is a voice in the garden, a song in the rice field… I fled back to Bali with a face sucked dry by the Antarctic winds that gnaw on the bones of remote southwest … More Voices from the rice field… how Bali lost it all
Eat a little dirt, crush a little road… getting the sack can balance your reality check book. He boomed into town on a Kawasaki KLR 650. Dust swirled along the beachfront. Electricity crackled the off-season air and the unmistakable scent of men on adventure spiced up the saltbreeze off the sweaty Pacific. Eric Lange put a … More How a career man got a real life….
A continuation of a one woman’s quest to make sense of various things (and a small, fluffy dog’s endurance of it) …. Well, it appears that most everything, still, hinges on secrets and lies. Secrets and lies. … and lashings of confusion, red wine and procrastination… if that’s what you call it! After boldly declaring … More Blame it on the Sushi
Forget your Lululemon and your botox shots, my brothers and sisters… get down to your knickers and sit under a tree, or a star – you might just find that there’s something the grass, the birds, the bark or the skidding clouds have been wanting to tell you.. http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/02/yoga-is-becoming-one-with-nature-a-conversation-with-danny-paradise-jade-richardson/ After a lifetime doing just … More It’s only natural
Of all the cities in the world to soothe a tattered dream, I hand my vote to Cuenca, in Ecuador. With regrets, of course, to Paris. Folks from the more rural, southern parts of Ecuador will say the little city of cobble stones, cathedrals and actual cappuccino is too cold to be comfortable, too wet … More The Last Beautiful Thing
Evilcabamba Diary #2 – Miss piggy cries wolf! In the story of The Three Little Pigs there was the one who made his house out of straw, the one who built from sticks and the last one who was (unfashionably) fond of red brick. I have had reason of late to wonder about this story. First … More Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?
I’ve always had this intuitive feeling that ‘going back’ is a path fraught with disappointment, a sure way to lance the boil of regret that grows quietly on the under-side of nostalgia. In love, in career and travel, ‘going back’ risks curdling all that warm milky romance that time so gently nurture us with – … More Death in Vilcabamba
A month washed in, a month washed out. Here in Vilcabamba rainbows were broiled up and rinsed out, we had a peace festival which caused no end of bitching and treachery, dust devils hurled themselves about the gritty streets and I walked on with dirt in my teeth and a bliss bomb in my pocket. … More Bliss. Bomb!
In the beginning was the word, And the word, in this beginning was B.O.R.E.D ! So what would you do? I mean, if you had this chance to leave your world and all your pressures , compromises and responsibilities behind, to step out into the (sort of) uncontaminated wild, to live free and unfettered, unjudged … More It’s transcendental, baby
Roots Cafe, Vilcabamba August 3 and 5. $120 incl lunch. Connect to the source of your writing Enjoy freedom of expression Create energy & inspiration for your book, blog, memoir, articles or journal. Learn to write with the eloquence of Flow State .. and do it all with ease & joy. Ideal for new writers, … More Vilcabamaba writers… journey to the source of your stories.