i never thought i'd turn to blogging as one would to a therapist, albeit formless and insentient. i kept diaries and sketchbooks since gradeschool. i think that's what kept me from going to bedlam. i still fill 50% of my sketchbooks with emotional outpourings and arbitrary thought. i think the notion that some anonymous person could read my miscellany and react, empathize or whatever is curiously appealing, yet not necessarily comforting. even if i write to nothingness, to no one but this black hole of the Web.
i shed some tears en route to santa cruz. the rest of the way my eyes burned immensely. random flashback clicked in and out; my brain was a self-acting
view-master. i decompressed on boulders along the ocean for a couple of hours and marveled at the marine life:

pettable sea grass! i thought of those punk wigs.

large starfish in the tidepool
the final resting location was at the pfeiffer state park by a large redwood along a creek that carried water from pfeiffer falls. i was fascinated by how so many of the giant redwoods have a cave-like entry at the base of their trunks. it was a rather numbing experience. i felt in a daze, in part from having an occipital headache and carsickness. the intangible and ineffable are surreal.