spaceoasis

Trying to catch the Movers and Shakers group at the Montecito church to hike McNenemy Trail, I drove around Hot Springs Rd and Mountain Rd but was late by a minute-- I think I saw their car. Since I had already driven to Montecito and was all prepared for a hike, I figured why not give Cold Spring Canyon yet another go and this time find Tangerine Falls. There were many cars there already when I got there at 1 but I only encountered two people on the trail. I walked confidently through the first half mile or so, already breaking a sweat because it was such a warm day in December. I had my backpack but only to carry my keys, phone, water and tobacco. Going up the east side of the trail, I crossed into West Fork and continued right when I came upon the fork-- the one on which the last time I had taken a left which led to a rockslide climb. This one curved up the sides of the mountains, breaking out from the shade of the wooded areas into the sun. The trail was narrow, averaging a foot wide. Some parts were slippery with loose, red rocks. The valley with the creek was on the right, and the mountain side was sparse with ferns, bushes, isolated trees. I paused a couple of times to take in the view and catch my breath and in about 40 minutes arrived at a blockage of boulders that formed a wall across the canyon. It was a breathtaking view of the ocean and Montecito below, though the very west end of the coast wasn't visible. From there the trail turned sharply to the left down into the wooded areas again. Here I entered complete shade, the sun filtered through dense forest. The trail was covered with yellow leaves, at times disappearing under them completely so that it had to be followed by the indentation of the land, and it crossed several times over the creek, which now had pools large enough to bathe in. This part of the trail was desolate, a wall of rock apart from the entrance of the canyon, and thus mushrooms grew undisturbed, parts of the river bed had eroded to expose roots of tree precariously half-balanced on land and half in air. The wind came into a roar as the hollow of the area magnified its approach. However, I did see several trees with their limbs cut, so this trail must have been maintained at some point. Following it wasn't hard, but it had the perturbing look of a trail that leads nowhere but further from civilization. It emerged into the sun again in a clearing where flat rocks had been arranged into three walls surrounding maybe a foot and a half squared feet (turns out to be an old root cellar from a homestead from the late 1800s!). I guess it was constructed to block the wind from a fire. A toppled tree trunk served as a bench and I sat here to smoke tobacco. I noticed two yellow rope ties holding back tree branches and felt a stirring relief that I wasn't alone. The one other path headed down towards the creek into a large, shaded clearing, beyond that, the trees grew thicker and the trail disappeared, unwalked or perhaps just yet unfinished. Feeling a slight modicum of worry from the memory of darting over boulders as the sun set and the woods became dark and submerged like the sea, I decided to head back. Back at the rocks on a high boulder that jutted forwards, I saw a man with white hair standing perched, gazing south. I yelled out, "Hi! Do you know if this is Tangerine Falls?" It wasn't, there had been another fork somewhere earlier, and Tangerine Falls was the right side. I climbed onto the rocks where he had been but didn't stay long to admire the view. The hike down the side of the mountain was rather difficult, the rocks would slip and I'd fall back, catching myself on my hands and feet a few times. As the trail was only about a foot wide at places and the steep mountain ran along down, I fought the urge to haphazardly but quickly slide while sitting down. After only a few slips here and there, I was back on sturdy, packed dirt and headed back towards my car, wondering where I had just come from.

After returning home, I make some chicken with curry and rice, and watch Mi Vida Loca until Nikki and David arrive. We have a pleasant time with wine, cheese and fruit watching Indiana Jones. David starts jonesing to go to Biko, he's fidgeting and rather quiet as Nikki and I enjoy a comfortable conversation. With David itching to leave but Blow being on the TV, Nikki asks if I was going to go with them to IV. She's going to hang out with David Szucz, she says and I get rather excited. Instead, I suggest we pick up David and go to the hot springs in Ojai.

It was perhaps 9 when we left my house, all three of us completely excited. We pick up David as his apt where his roommates are preparing to go get drunk, pile into Nikki's car and head off on the 101 South. Szucz's head is on my lap, and I'm still gaily talking with David and Nikki, sharing information and stories. We finally park along the road an hour later, walk a short distance to the hotsprings, where to our delight, we see nobody. We set the flashlight up and I get in first. Not before long, we're drinking the wine and smoking the joint, another group of people have joined us and were singing in one of the smaller but warmer pools. And then, two men with the Navy, a couple, and several others joined us in the large pool. Candles replaced the garish flashlight, we talked about hot springs, Burning Man, the stars lit up the water. Szucz and I were enshrouded in each other's warmth as our toes touched and legs curled around each other. Shooting stars were abound, and we watched Orion move across the sky as we searched for the Seven Sisters and the Big Dipper. We took a quick dip in the creek just adjacent to the springs, and I screamed in delight and shock of the cold, and jumped back into the warmth. David had his arms out to me. The candles blew out as the wind increased but the others faded away as my attention became entirely focused on him. Eventually as people came and went, I was lying down on a rock by the side and with David dipping his head on my chest and his arms holding the back of my head, talked about writing and family.

Eventually at 3:20 AM, we got up and left, piled back into Nikki's car for a jerky ride down into Carpinteria listening to Muse's Absolution on the way. Sleepy and perhaps upset, Nikki passed out on the couch shortly after arriving at my house, David Szucz burrowed into my bed to get warm, so David Porrecca and I made some pasta and tea. I joined Szucz and we opted out of the shower. The next morning, I wake him with urgent kisses. We remain in bed for another 2 hours. Nikki knocks and comes in, she's upset over her boyfriend and we listen to blues. While Porrecca reads a poem aloud by Bukowski, Szucz teases me underneath the sheets. They go back into the living room to get ready to leave, we make love yet again. He says goodbye but as he kisses me, I hear: I'll be back.

downcast and suppressed, my words cannot attest to how much I need love right now. how my body longs to make contact with another's: preferably a girl's long, soft limbs which carry no threat of invasion, no philandering of the spirit. simple sensual comfort is all I want to feel tonight. I want to rest my head on her shoulder tonight as we lay ourselves carefully down on my bed. I'd like no words to be spoken, just soft breath coming easily.

it's no fun to be cheated on because suddenly everything you held sacred to yourself and another isn't so sacred anymore. It's like saving yourself to be thrown away. Someone grabbing YOUR glass of wine to throw it in your face. My fidelity and confidence have been scorn and my emotions run amuck as if they were puddles left over from a glorious rain that of yesterday. And you hold your chest high as the sky reflects off the sky you stand on, among your puddle of tears, the ground completely covered in illusion so you feel yourself unsteady in your feet. No shadows to hide beneath. Just another puddle of sweat and tears as you move forward, finding friends and laughs, but always feeling somewhat defeated, something of a beautifully wilted wallflower.

And then seeing you reveling in your stolen freedom, courting another woman and then turning around and calling her a kid girl. you're a boy, kid. go fuck yourself and stop hurting others in your expenditures of selfish, narrow, muddy desire. I know you for what you really are but ah your image of BLISS and FREEDOM I still cherish as what once "is" and no longer can be-- never will that crack in the mirror heal because reality has splintered been lovingly apart. thank you for breaking your own charm and now I hold onto a burning talisman of resentment. distrust courses in my veins as quickly as the dying seeing their lives and body falling apart, decaying, dis-eased and breaking but really I'm not so badly off. What I need isn't a shoulder to cry on, just one to lean on for warmth as I sit on a couch to conversate. I'm not looking for a full on hug or words of sympathy, just some warmth and touch to feel safely connected, the way it used to be with you.

Looking between her hands
she holds her baby girl.
the child's father is gone
she hadn't wanted to do this alone.

the girl grows up
given everything she hadn't wanted.
the child's father comes and goes
she watches him from the window.

the mother remarries
has a son with this new man.
the girl watches their family
wondering when her father will arrive.

she leaves for college
dates unavailable men
hurts herself over and over again
for failing to connect to her father.

the mother waits for her to return
so that she can take her under her wing again
but the girl stays out late
playing lonely games.