Leaving Baggage Behind

I'm in the process of packing. Mentally, I already feel elsewhere. I'm only taking what I can carry in one small carry-on bag and a purse. I'm not checking any luggage. I'm not bringing much baggage. Some underwear, a pair of jeans, shorts,  white shirts, a sundress, pair of running shoes, and my Birkenstocks. My skin is looking better--so no make-up, just a hat for the sun. Some books. A bikini. A journal. (And...Yes, HD...) A camera. And sunscreen. Heavy-duty sunscreen.

I'm bound for Phoenix, Mesa, then Sedona. A little Arizona exploration....

This weekend, I'm leaving all my baggage at home. Traveling light. I'm NOT taking a curling iron, high heels, or my laptop. Although I keep waffling on the laptop. All the high maintenance shit stays at home! I've let my agent know I'm gone for three days--so is she--seems everyone is getting out. I remember Labor Day weekend last year. It felt like a ghost town in North Hollywood. (Which I sorta loved...)

Below's a silly little poem I shared with a friend--popped out of my head when I was writing an email to him. Ah, Sedona...I am a lover of red-rock country. There's a river there that I make a point of visiting every time I go. Lots of large, flat rocks, which are perfect for yoga--right next to this crystal-cold river. So, here's my little ditty, in honor of all the kooky and left field folks out there, whom I adore... Psychics and such...

Fortune-teller, fortune-teller read me my palm
Tell me where's love, give this anxious heart balm
Fortune-teller, fortune-teller read me my palm
I find no wisdom, indecision; deliver me calm.

Y'all have a good Labor Day Weekend. Travel light. Light of baggage. Light of heart.

--Eve White

Comments

[Hideo's Dance]

Bon voyage.

Travel safe, breathe deep, fly high...

HD