Category Archives: Dear George

Two Minute Dummies (day 1837)

Dear George,

I’ve been plowing the sky lately,
Pushing out weeds and laughing
Into circular spires that tangle my heart
And blow my innocence
One seed at a time.

And this is just day one.

This isn’t like some kind of marigold round,
This is a lost mannequin
Rusting beside two mute dummies
In an old warehouse
Sprinkling fuel all around in
Distorted laughter and
Fixing generators with all night fuel parties.

And don’t piss off the bouncer.

So, things have been interesting,
You know?

How are things with you?

Love,

Lucy

The Purr of Gaia (day 1672)

Dear George,

The letters from Salem finally arrived today. I had been preparing for them all week – harvesting a few varieties of toadstools in the forest around the area.

Bonhomie fills my heart this time of season. I wear my warm clothes and delight in an extra cup of coffee most days. Are you still exploring your art of the bean? I have started to use a scale to measure proportions for my perfect cup of coffee.

As I read through the hand written letters, the snow started falling here. Big large flakes that have started to stay on the ground, lazily floating there chaotically.

I love this time of year. The browns are so dominant, lacking most any signs of the lush green foliage of summer’s heat. It soothes the black heart inside of me, calling out to me slowly as I imagine the sweet embracing, icy fingers of Gaia as she slowly settles into fetal position – eyes flickering slowly – for a calm rest. Much like the feline.

I saved a feline from certain death two weeks ago. It had come pawing at my door after I fed it one lonely night. I had seen it fishing in garbage cans for luck earlier that week. We tracked down the owner who said it was left behind during a move half way across the country.

Can you imagine the absurdity of that? Moving half way across the country and leaving without your cat?

It’s a beautiful cat with the fullest of coats and a purr that shakes the icicles from sweet Gaia grip as she slowly settles into my black heart.

I look forward to hearing from you soon. The lovely sketch that accompanied your last letter was so enchanting. I’ve had it sitting on my windowsill since you sent it.

Much love,

Lizarious

Coconut Oil (day 1477)

Dear George,

I’ve been wandering the streets late at night wondering where I am, what I’m doing here, how I got here, what day it is. I know this is kind of silly, just a simple glance at my watch I’ve begun to wear again, but I think it’s more in theory: I’m lost. Can you associate?

I don’t look at my hands much anymore. They’ve become acceptable. I now am fascinated with my chin. The various states of hair growth, the different shape it takes upon waking, after shaving, after showering, at night, in the morning. Have you ever noticed this difference?

It has become obvious to me that my morbid thoughts aren’t normal. No, I am not always dying. The pain in my hip is not my insides unwinding. The twitch in my breast isn’t what it feels like to have your lung spewing it’s contents into my stomach. My throat glands will hurt that much if I jab them consistently. Ears aren’t meant for sharp objects, nor is my nose, throat, bum…

Well, the rumors are true. I’ve begun to enjoy the pleasures of massage. Can you believe I went this long in life without ever truly exploring what my muscles could handle, besides that which I do for muscle growth? I get lost for good lengths of time just trying to understand why my muscle is flip-flopping as it does. I notice when I lie flat on the ground that a muscle in my back shifts a bit. I notice my calves are incredibly tight. And to have somebody else do it for me?! Goodness.

Life changed.

Have you discovered the wonders of coconut oil yet?

With all my brotherly love,

Red.

Island in the Sun (day 1436)

Dear George,

It’s been a while since we last talked,
For that I am sorry,
I hope you do not wait impatiently for my letters…
Like I do.

Baldwin Beach - Maui

I have been off to the tropics,
A tiny little island in the middle of the sea
Where geckos climb banana trees
And the end of rainbows are within walking distance.
I swam in the ocean here,
Swam with sea turtles as large as sheep
And walked most places without shoes or sandals on.

I think you would have appreciated our diets,
We were mostly eating local vegetarian cuisines
And I learned how to make kichari and nutmilks.
Some of the people I was staying with
Indulged in bliss balls,
And yes, the name alludes to the taste of these heavenly things.
With the leftover bits I’ve strained out of the nutmilks
I’ve begun to make at home now,
I plan on making some bliss balls of my own,
For snacking.

It’s been an interesting journey for me trying to reintegrate into society.
I’ve been taking it slow,
Going for multiple bike rides – which I love so much – every day.
Along the ocean here and through my favorite parts of town.
I’m doing lots of writing,
Which you also know I love to do so much.

I’ve just finished a book entitled Okham’s Razor
That was comparing the contrasting views of reality
Between the Middle Ages all the way up to the present day.
Along with the learning I did at the yoga immersion
On the tropical island in the sun,
I’ve begun to really get clear questions
I’m searching for.
I’m excited to remember everything,
And grow with everything at the same time.

Love is good, food is good, life is good.
I hope yours is too.

Hope to talk soon,
Sincerely,

Joshua Radlin

Duke (day 1367)

Dear George,

I watched the twins go back and forth on the swings today,
It kind of made me feel sea-sick, like when I used to go high.
I remember it was always funner competing
Against my brother or sister to see
Who could go highest.
Did you jump off at the end?
Perhaps that’s why my feet get sore sometimes now.

Could you ever have dreamed we’d both have twins
When we’d first met?
How we’ve both become family people now.
I like the family though, my small bit of world
I’ve nurtured around me.
It’s different then a close knit group of friends
All keenly interested and active in each other’s lives,
But I’m influential all the same, and I like the closeness
We all have regularly. My whole world.
Do you also get this feeling with yours?

Duke, our little fox terrier is getting quite old now.
Do you remember when we first got him?
I was looking at the photographs of him
As a puppy the other day, so cute.
He sits and comes when called,
And when we go for a walk he’s always very obedient.
He gets along with the kids so well.
I hate to think of life without Duke, but we must brace for it a bit.

Hope you’re well George,
We all look forward to your visit this summer.

Sincerely,

Julie.

God (day 1353)

Dear George,

It’s been two years since I last heard from you,
I’ve been wondering if there’s been some trouble
Flirting the edges of your peaceful existence
I’ve always known you to have.

How is Martha? Cindy and I always chat about how lovely
Of a woman she is – and of course you are, my friend.

I frequently think back to our college days.. Do you?
Do you remember that night we sat on the patio at the Gate
And drank ourselves silly?
I think you were going downtown to some punk bar
Which I accompanied you on.
Do you remember jumping into/over that tree, down the drop?
I’m surprised we didn’t break bones doing that.
How big was that drop? Must have been about 5 feet or so..

Of course you have memories. I think we’ve talked about this before.

My heart is humble these days, perhaps it’s my inner peace,
Perhaps it’s also my slow submission towards some light.
I see that light in you when we come and visit.
Do you know what I’m talking about?
I find myself believing more and more in the spiritual world,
In listening to energy around us.. I think it’s only in my nature
To want to also influence the energy around us,
But if you ask me, this is dangerously close to necromancy.
Well, that or being God.

We’ve never talked about God before. What is your God?

Hope all is well my friend. I look forward to hearing from you.

Love,

Your ol’ friend,

Hermann Flicke