Struggling or Set?

Sometimes the most interesting person in a group is the one still trying to ‘make it’. Everyone probably knows someone like that. They are the one that works random jobs so they can focus on becoming an actor, painter, sculptor, craftsman, or musician. They pop-up from time to time, as their adventures bring them through their home towns. Never quite sure if tomorrow will bring the big break or recognition that they need.

But somehow I envy them. To have something that you enjoy and are passionate enough about that you are willing to risk everything else. Hours after hours are spent in pursuit of only becoming better at the one thing that you know you were meant to do. And the satisfaction is in what you produce. The thing that you complete is yours; it came from you. If only we all could harbor that type of enthusiasm for our ‘work’ and pleasure; to be a struggling artist.

Back on the Burro

As fate would have it, I cannot stay away from the burrito forever. I love Chipotle just as much...well maybe a little more than the next guy. I went to the grand opening of a new location in San Francisco in late June, ordered my usual (Chicken Fajita Burrito), and retired to my hotel room for what I though was another boring evening. Something was not quite right; maybe it was the chicken, poorly cooked on a busy night. But I got food poisoning. Not something that you want ever and especially when out of town. I survived but it was not pretty. Anyway, I have not been back since. Today I went back with family for lunch, ordered my usual, and...nothing. Guess I’ll just have to strike it up to bad luck.

The Wandering man walks a path, but it is not his own.
Down the road, moving; or does Earth pass underneath.
Days, weeks, months; continuous cycles of Light and Dark.
His goal, beyond the horizon; moving in tandem,
Never closer, never further apart; existing separately.

Solid rock erodes to dust; Nature controls and directs.
Nowhere to call home, no way to get back,
At the mercy of wind and the errant Traveler.

The last day closes; Sadness surrounds them.
Neither in control Nor where they wish.
Together, they give Purpose; meaning to Exist.
Their Journey not willed but a Journey the same.
No longer alone, as a pair they expire; in peace.

Oh, New Mexico

New Mexico, what do you mean to me?

I've spent many a night in your various hotels;
I've driven your roads 'til I thought I was lost.
Dust storms, flash floods, hail, sleet, and snow.
A slightly ugly desert that escaped from Mexico.
Aliens, green chile, political corruption;
nuclear science, drugs, and natural wonders.
Each time I leave, I wish it the last.
But then I come back, and it seems the same.
The 'Land of Enchantment' finally has me jaded.
But I don't think good bye is here just yet.