Interesting site for the moon-minded... http://www.astrowisdom.com/thisfullmoon.htm

Now for something completely different.

I'm new to this town, Ventura. Beautiful beaches, little neighborhoods, good thrift stores, groovy mixed downtown. Too much shopping, in the "here's another stripmall" sense, for my taste, but there ya go. So, I drive around, and try to pick up the...vibe, I guess, and learn my way around etc.

The thing that keeps rattling around in my brain is: "You've landed in a David Lynch film. It looks so very "normal." Just wait. It isn't."

It's intangible, but real. This town is off in some way, but I cannot define it exactly. I'm working on it.

Thus far, I've spotted no dwarves, speaking backwards. But the fact that there is a liquor store within spitting distance of yet another liquor store and another, on each and every block of every main drag speaks to something. That, coupled with the fact almost everyone I've met brings up "the Lord" in casual conversation, right off the bat, also adds to the "somethin's not right he'ah" suspicion.

I miss San Francisco. I miss the crazy hair and overt piercings and tats and urban attitude. I miss the green trees and hills of Marin, and the trails and everyone in REI gear or bike gear, ready to head out early in the morning. I miss the eclecticism of the East Bay. I'm sad I missed all the marriages at City Hall in SF. I miss the fog and the Golden Gate Bridge and the sailboats and the clean, cold wind coming off a stormy ocean. I miss the deer in the garden, the racoons on the roof, the golden finches at my bird feeder. I miss my friends, available to go to some new art opening or excellent musical event at the drop of a hat. I miss the culture, the diversity, the availability...of the world at your fingertips. Everything seemed possible there, the magic was so lush and apparent.

I miss every single second and micro-moment of home.

And I'm not sure when this will feel like home, if ever.

Maybe I'll learn to surf. Maybe I'll start beach-walking. Maybe the heat of the Ventura sun will soak into my bones, melt me, remold me, and claim me as So-Cal.

I don't know. I just don't know.