This morning the camp next to us is having a bloody mary party. You’re supposed to bring a cup, but one guy forgot his. In exchange for a cup, he’s providing an eloquently-sung limerick of questionable taste for the entire camp.
Today I head back to the city. I’m having a fantastic time, but there are things I still want to do at home before my coach turns into a pumpkin.
I’m proud to be an original member of Open Kitchen Camp.
Side Note: These two have posted some more fun pictures from the trip here.
I spend the morning relaxing and hanging out in high places, and then it’s time to drive.
…as I get closer to the highway, I realize how good the muse’s voice will feel on my ears. I avoid getting a ticket, but ride the line pretty tightly.
The drive is long but easy, and I get home just in time to meet my muse at Fattoush for a late dinner.
The next day, back in the city, I can see that there are bits and pieces of the playa all around this place, like real gargoyles hiding in amongst the stone ones.
There are inventors everywhere, and now that I’m looking, there are less-subtle connections as well…
This Café Flore is in the playa mood for sure. Luckily their roof is made of metal.
In the evening, the sky is totally clear, except for this crazy little strip of fog.
Random assertion: Every place you see sees you as well. And it remembers.
Steganographic data: 1810/4.8
Days remaining in Secret Plan 158: 5