Dusty roads and tumbleweeds blow by, ambling, with dainty wistful thoughts of, of, oh no. I wish. Instead I've been scrambling about with school. African nationalism... Globalization.... A daunting thesis on the delusion of self-sufficiency (no, no, just a highlight of some paradox)... And also with going to hear music. With playing music. With hosting guests. With helping friends manifest their projects. With trying to develop my own. With new friends. With old friends. Dinner parties. Dark passages. And still the doctors and physical therapists. And oh yeah somewhere in there I got strep, but I'm better now. And what lovely art you made Hackett! And the benefit (thank you thank you thank you for coming! It was so helpful and positive and made me delirious and gave me energy and how lucky I am to have so many marvelous muses!)

And the Airtrain. The Airtrain!

I took the J to the a to the Airtrain to see Eno, Brian Eno, speak at terminal five about airports because Eno has made some remarkable music and spouted some provoking philosophies and terminal five is one of the most beautiful buildings in the world and I haven't been since they closed it a few years ago and threatened to destroy it and now it seems jet blue is saving it, yea, yea jet blue, yea. And it was designed by a finn you know, Eero Saarinen, who also made beautiful furniture that one can buy for their home or office from a distributor in Michigan. And I am Finnish too but have not made something quite so spectacular (yet!). Nothing I have made is for sale in Michigan. Oh, but it will be.

And how I love airports, all the anxiety, emotion, tears, and triumph! People rushing to be in love and then break up, visiting the dead or the dead's family or their own, gambling their life savings, hoping to find it, you know "it" but then leaving it all behind, kissing, hugging, crying, shaking hands, bowing, hiding, on the run, on the lamb, on the doll, sipping coffee, downing Bloody Mary's, basking in that ambient static of those ever tall ceilings, strolling past miles of nuts and candy and so many magazines and shitty books. Moving sidewalks! Backpacks! Vuitton! And duty free bags everywhere. Darting to and fro, meeting to meeting, elite status, red carpet club, suits, ties, mini skirts and cowboy hats! Internet ports. The steady drill of cell phones with power points and laptops and a blank, kind of worried stare straight ahead hoping her bikini doesn't get lost on the way to Hawaii. Where is my toothpaste?! I love airports. I love JFK. I love terminal five. Thank you TWA.

But, but, but, but someone broke a window and homeland security seized the building and everything inside, except Eno who was outside apologizing to the 20 of us who showed up to listen. And then our government representative brutally shouted at our waifish group of pale people dressed in (mostly) black to "disperse and stop taking photos, I told you to disperse! It's 7:04 and at 7:05 which is in precisely one minute, I am calling the police and they will disperse you. Now disperse and stop taking photos I said!" bark bark bark. The barking man wore a tan fake Armani suit and could have been a linebacker for the Chicago bears except he was taller than most NBA players and bald like a KGB man so remarked Eno... "This is exactly how it used to feel in Moscow and that is what they looked liked," he told us.

And so my friend, there are no tumbleweeds. Only the gorgeous chill of fall. And we are in New York (most of us). And you know what that means: it's art season! And if I were more on top of it I would have said happy birthday to Bryan two weeks ago and Jules one week ago... Instead I'll wish it to Firehorse and Kyle this week a day late, and welcome home veronica from her extended summer hiatus, and everyone from Robodock in Amsterdam.



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