I am allowing Merry Pachinko to wreak havoc on the sweetness. To bring chaos to the front. To scream it into a microphone and laugh witches’ notes into the sky.
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We packed water, but we also packed box wine. So we set up camp and after traipsing around, running down mountains of crystals, we laid out our mats. We sunbathed and day drank as the clouds rolled by and the sun struck up conversations with every element of nature around us. Including us.
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What did we do in those three weeks? Almost bought an ostrich egg from a rock shop, spent full days digging for petrified wood, binged Game of Thrones, smacked sprouted potatoes into the desert with a lacrosse stick. Real heady stuff.
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“Yes, I love pizza. Pizza sounds great!” I eagerly agree to meet up with Tarot legend, Dana Bellings,* creator and priestess of one of the first feminist decks from the Return to the Goddess culture of the late twentieth century. Her deck was my mom’s very first one, and when I started to learn the craft, my mom gifted me the same deck.
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“Let's take a break,” she says. I look up from my anatomy homework. “Let's go to the pound for a study break.” And that is how I met Atlas, quit school, my job, met my partner, bought a camper, quit society, and pivoted off the path so compacted with footfalls, it is an erosion nightmare mudslide in rainy season.
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Up and forward. I repeat over-over-over again in my head as I jog up the gravel road that leads to somewhere, I’m pretty sure.
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“Good god Sal, did ya even put ANY sunscreen on today?” The bartender who we are realizing has a bit of a-judgy, but because I care about my regulars kind of way-attitude inquires as Sal saunters back into the bar with his girlfriends now. “Jesus Henry, dont embarrass me in front of my lady company.”
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