I am now living and writing from Santa Fe, New Mexico. Everything has changed since I was shunting through snowbanks in Brookline, Massachusetts. I am in a 200-year old adobe house; not the adobe mentioned in the last entry. All of my stuff is here with me, I'm back in the West, waiting for a new job to begin. While I have written much about "the losing" (chrissy hynde), I am now living out the finding.

I should have had an artist-explorer along on this journey; these vistas are meant for record-making memories. The pinon and juniper along the road, the river in its small, stone-held ravine, the new birds, still foreign to me as I wander these new neighborhoods. Somebody should have painted this.