Walk in truth, fly in hot pants...

Yes, I know... it's been a little earnest around here lately. I guess there's been a tendency to dig deep and look around with serious awe, and to walk in the overlaps of inner and outer, dreams and materiality. Still though, as ever, I love to ride the waves of the present, the surface, the fun, the people, that. But not as a fear-born substitute for depth, and not to undermine the good stuff that's underway.

The bell-curve of any arc-like journey returns. Zarathustra came down from the mountains, Jacques Cousteau swam up to Calypso, and little ol' me will climb out of my rabbit hole.

Complements are what I'm after. Worlds that work together without over-thinking or queasy consequences or the need for shattered safety-glass goggles.

Let's get airborne...