Heavenly Light

Heavenly Light
Read to see the light

Friday, November 02, 2012

Letter to Self: Start Blogging More: San Francisco, NOPA, Nov. 2 2012,

I have been absent for a while. I don't know why. I used to write in this blog, for fun, for me, without a theme while staying true to myself. I wrote it not like I didn't care if anyone would actually read it, but in case someone did, it might touch them in some way or another, even one person. That's how I used to write, for myself, and for others, if they chose to listen. I'm neither an advocate with a big mouth, nor a soft spoken person. However, I communicate by writing, and I haven't been communicating. So please, read write comment share, use smart phone to show your friends--anything..something! Something that makes them smile! Something that makes you laugh, something that you are passionate about in your true heart and soul.
I'm very lopsided when it comes to technology, but it is indeed a large part of my life, so why not utilize it for the world to see, that is if anyone is watching! I got a camera about six months ago, and finally uploaded the picture. From inside my NOPA living room to Bolinas to Russia and back I hope to write in a photo essay manner, a window into my soul. I love to travel and recently went to Russia. A land new to me, led around by the most gorgeous guide. I got to see a little piece of her, her history, her family and the area which she grew up in that led her to me. We also went mushroom hunting in her local forest, and scored big time! We hunted them, picked them and cooked them! So delicious! We also took a cat with us, Gagarin. Look for posts entitled, "1 (one) Cat to Russia," tying together the cat's escapades with our travels and fun stories.
Mushroom Hunting in Russia:
Also, on a more serious note, I want to dedicate the next lot of blog posts to my Aunt Carol, my cousins, Michelle, Nicole and Chris, my uncle Charlie, and all family and friends of Carol Simpson!
Can we all read it and remember about compassion , love, positivity, nature and who positive thoughts have a direct positive influence in the Universe? There was a place special to all of us "Simpson's: called the Crazy "S." I want to relive those memories, growing up there I hope you see this Carol and realize that yes, I went to Russia, foraged wild mushrooms in the countryside and ate them! Yep, I eat all sorts of different things now--so maybe I'll write about those things! If we can all direct our positivity towards Carol and her family we can provide the energy boost necessary to overcome and be able to laugh and play! I hope to rekindle some memories, bring back familiar scents and shed some love from San Francisco!

Monday, April 16, 2012

Pisco on the Rocks

With the exuberance and joy of a six year old, I find myself tending bar at a burning man art warehouse also home to Oro Pisco. There exists a deflated bouncy castle and Ferris wheel full of skeletons, an intelligent light cube that distracts even the most focused of the dumbfounded attendees. Synchronicities and paradoxes shake hands and we all think to ourselves, "What the fuck." But the Ferris wheels of life often need a little lubrication as do our bouncy castles. We can often feel nestled within our comfortable domain, living and doing some routine bullshit, until one day you finally decide to break out of your radius, hop on a bus to nowhere and blow up with your own hot air an inflatable house of mystery for all to bounce on...

Verse Versus Verse

Verse I Devoid of public opinion larceny and slander, the once coveted member of society meticulously planned his immanent revenge. Held hostage by taxes and quarterly profits the lonely soul now became a vagabond on a voyage of a lifetime trying only to witness what some Buddhists call true suffering. For to witness and experience true suffering then one can really understand. Having employed evil and ridiculed Mignons for satire, his perturbed soul will look long and far for such misery--as they say though, misery finds company. ~Versus~ Verse II Avidly seeking a simple place in this world where a decent human, well educated and quite intuitive can robustly compromise the capitalist system. Amidst the dawn of a new era in innovation and technology, considered as a true people person. Dwelling on past experience of world travel and touching poverty--the trash filled dirt sifting through my hands, only to find treasure within true happiness, but alas, having it grab me by the balls, toss me around on a violent spin cycle and come out fresh, wrinkled and hung out to dry. Those close pins pinch, but the hot sun and the afternoon breeze gallivanting through those nimble threads dries up any pain and energizes the vigor to button up once again and trudge into the deep waters of the cravenness abyss we call life. With a scent of fresh spring in the end we all iron out the wrinkles of fate and irony and become once again fit to wear in public, strut our stuff, attend soirees and articulate profound dialogue to top cunning linguists about truth in life. Because life is about truth, and there inlays the truth--happiness.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

My Transcendent Window: A Video

Do you have exactly two minutes?! Take a deep breath, relax and enjoy the zen of my 2 minute video: My Transcendent Window: Thank you for watching, I hope you are more relaxed now. -International Vagabond, SF CA 2011-2012

A Spiritual Place

Somewhere along the Big Sur coast along Highway 1, there is a little pull over gas station, a coffee shop. restaurant and a spiritual garden. The energy is good here, tucked away on the other side of the cliffs from the roaring Pacific Ocean. The cliffs, you took pictures of them at every pull-out along the Highway.
You saw the cows grazing in the glorious meadows that overlook the ocean, felt the breeze finally reaching shore after traveling through the trees, rustling the leaves in a forest in Siberia, down the planes of Mongolia that altered the breeze from the butterfly that flapped its wings.
This very wind, continues soaring through the Asian metropolises and across the endless ocean. It picks up speed as it reaches landfall, the waves crash along the shore and the breeze scurries up the cliff wall to pound you with the freshest air in the world as you exit your car door and scream a shriek of freedom, yeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Peace and Love from International Vagabond, California 2011-2012

Friday, January 06, 2012

My Transcendent Window: An Essay

In the morning, almost directly out of bed, I make my coffee. Sometimes I jolt out of bed thinking I've slept in too long, the tea kettle is full and whistling, like a locomotive arriving at a small town in Nebraska, yes, I have that obnoxious Alessi kettle.
If you don't have an Alessi fetish like I do, the kettle provides the hot water maker with two tones of boiling alarms similar to that of 1860 freight engines. If you don't get there in time it drowns out the sirens, buses and banter from outside any busy urban intersection. I work as a bartender at nights, and have my days free to write. Hire me, and I'll write it, say it, sell it, blog it, and create it into whatever your needs may be--or not and let me dissolve into the masses like everyone else, holding my flag of "living the dream" high and planting it in my studio apartment rooftop compost bin. My flag waves vigorously on the border between Western Addition and Nopa, blanching the neighborhood with tasteless fear. I've ground the coffee and rigged my primitive get up ready for the obnoxious boiling water to be poured flawlessly over the old school filter and holder system I have. Maybe its a lack of space in my "sunny" apartment, maybe its because I'm somewhat old fashioned or maybe its because I've bought at least 6 different coffee machines in my life and they all sucked and somehow I don't have one anymore. Nevertheless, its probably a combination of these factors that unite to produce my current cup of deliciously bold, italic and underlined coffee. This semi compulsive but not nearly obsessive and yet a bit simplistically intricate method of preparing coffee has become a current trend in San Francisco. But really, is brewing your cup of coffee one cup at a time really a trend? My dad used to make it this way in the middle of the Windrivers with a gas stove and a frying pan, battered and rationed grounds from the bottom of his 67 pound backpack 8 miles into the middle of the wilderness. However, this philosophy, in San Francisco, as far as trends are concerned, allegedly, started by Phil of Philz coffee. As a long time coffee fanatic, not surprisingly Philz one of the first places I went to when I moved to SF. Yes, 97% of the reason I moved to SF was because I was certain they had good coffee, and good coffee shops. This is not lie. After Philz I used to treck my way to Ritual in the mission, with their coffee mug and logo that seems to resemble the hammer a sickle, this revolutionary coffee was idyllic; from their short espressos that taste like a bowl of peeled citrus to their $5.25 quadruple mochas, tattooed baristas and foreign money on the wall. I should have wrote a coffee manifesto there, but I wasn't cool enough then, and now I work across the street and am probably even less cool. I might have been cool enough when I became unemployed and couldn't afford those mochas and "citrusy" espressos, but would scrounge up some BART money and find a corner to sit in and write, all day, and not search for work. I remember, during those unemployed times we all took part in circa 2007-2008, I treated myself to a Ritual mocha on my birthday/. I took it and sat in Dolores park, maybe it was a Monday, or a Tuesday, never-the-less the park wasn't saturated with the Sunday crowd, moreover, sprinkled with the "industry" crowd, and at this point in time there wasn't much industry because it was 2007 and we were all more or less unemployed. I sat on that grassy knoll and saw a man down the hill on the other side of the sidewalk, his inner light shining. I finished my coffee, took my shoes off to feel the earth and meditated. A phone call from my dad interrupted my transcendence, but because it was my birthday, I answered. He wished me happy birthday and I assured him the job search was going well--it wasn't. I was enjoying myself as a true vagabond, blossoming in some sort of new age spirituality that I was just starting to comprehend. I had just healed my broken foot with herbs, salts, meditation and healing touch and was certain spirituality could conquer capitalism, it didn't. From my Transcendent Divisadero corner window, I have strategically placed an Ikea shelf on the window sill and watch the flawless camaraderie of neighborhood shopkeepers, distributors and enjoy this view of utmost "cititude" of the quaint urban atmosphere this humble abode has provided for me. In order to achieve this living space, I've developed a strong work ethic in an industry that coincides with my lifestyle very well. As a San Francisc o barkeep, my job stretches two neighborhoods, I talk to over 300 people a week, concoct more than 400 cocktails, entertain diners, create libations, organize glassware, count money and provide change. "Change always comes from within," a poker player buddy (also a bartender) always told me. Change does come from within, sometimes, for me at least, within the cash register and sometimes, after a good cup of home brewed coffee one cup at a time, change can come from within your soul.
Photo by Nikolay Zverkov check him out at: http://nomoney-nolove.livejournal.com