MUNICH, GERMANY: A big green lake full of wanderers

Culturally, germany differs from much of the world. capitalize its title if You please.

id love to explain those differences to You. the differences that make it solid and beautiful to me. id love to take all ive seen and pour it into the broth of a soup fitted for a magicians dinner. a dinner he would enjoy immensely and thereafter expel my intricate details to You in a delicate and slighted manner with his trickz... a manner You might have to prepare Yourself to handle, before he begins. but i cannot make this broth for him. too many indgredients.

all of this has been special, but not an quick special. a progressive special. a three month adventure that started in los angeles with a best friend and a shotty ticket...four boxes and no reason but to survive the realization of my own ´far-fetched´ dream. moved on to the mediterranean, where only moving pictures and silent suits mattered. then from train to train i travelled with my best stranger friends...up the coast, we cooked a bit in the west. on to paris, i then was, where foreign babies made my body stop aching with one simple note, stroked in their vocal chambers. a giggle. and there, the street lights of paris said more in one glimmer...than do these here thousand letters surely say about my experience.

now with more freckles and newfound interest in more than a few things of the world, i lay in germany and dream slightly of nothing, all the while of it all. my bed at home. deciduous forests. trains passing. theatrical french lions dancing. purple and yellow fashion boys walking. oysters hopping. subtitles teaching. waves winking. cobble stones sinking. red ladders falling. raspberries growing. spacesbars clicking. hitler yelling. bread baking in france. chocolate waiting in germany. wine tasting in paris. insomnia in altdorf. the lake. the offish windows. the unbound naked beach chidlren. honest gentlemen. antenna bayern. complex days of simply studying interaction. bound by nothing but stuck to paper, forever, i am. until the hours of the morning that no one in the world actually gets through. no matter the sunds position. and still home is waiting. the home that roman gods did not annoint with power or gift to their rivals in fear of war.

but Home. the home that defines what You think You never need when You need everything You used to have, before You left it for something crazy.

NURNBERG, GERMANY: I think the sky is just a bunch of rainbows covered by clouds of blue and white.

Last night i saw its natural hue again. like a storybook at the soles of my shoes, a scene played itself out before me...fog crowded the thick forestland that we drove through to placethere in that festival of color. A high peaked, ivy colored, traditional house provided the basin for the nine oclock rainbow after a dreary day of lost light in the sky. Clouds pink and lavendar. Safe to say that the sun planned this all out from the start of the day, he woke up and said, "Ill rise late tonight in an unexpected beam and keep them up until four am wondering why that beam chose then to rise." Hes tricky; almost as tricky as this german keyboard i here type from.

I now write to you from a flat house in the countryland of eastern germany. I actually had to look up what part of the world I was in on google maps...because I honestly did not know its description. Foreign birds play outside my window, with the purple flowers and green stems that support the colored parts...someones in the kitchen and its all but noise to me, here.

Noise that borders on humor. The german language has truly outsmarted me for the past 36 hours and I have but 2 weeks more to be impressed by my own lack of intelligence.

Flying and training and walking and falling, no longer has great effect upon me. I sometimes wake up with new bruises but its all a part of the game, the journey. I find that rain heals me because its like the sky is being completely honest with us. It rained daily in Paris and as I dismounted the white, red and blue sky shuttle that displaced me in Munich, Germany, but two days ago...mist covered my backpack and chilled my wrists as I found my friend waiting at the place where people meet people in the airport.

As the stereotypes played out marvelously and the bratwurst was anything but imperfect...I looked out from the highest point in Nurnberg and laughed at the funny ladders that lay on each red rooftop. I think I was laughing at the impossibility of my prescence there, but I blame the parallel bars of silver metal on each shingled house for my inability to stop smiling.

It is enjoyable to live uncapturably. Exciting and depressing all in the same. There are no fonts or photos that describe how things go here...its all in the moment. The ever changing moment. The moment youre accidentally dancing to a German rock band play Sum41 songs in the middle of a street festival with one of youre best friends, on the opposite side of the world. Or when youre watching 30 people drink from huge glass mugs and dance around a maypole in traditional costumes to live-oldmanband music as they sway back and forth, holding trees above their heads and being hit by blownup pig bladders in the middle of the afternoon near a field somewhere unexplainably new.

He walked in with Spätzle.

PARIS, FRANCE: Ta Maman ne serait pas d'accord

Details and details stream out of me like the breath of the metro that stops at my feet. everything has been captured on paper. in color. with water. and pigments of tangible expression.

no worries.

if you are curious as to what ive been through; we can look in the books. its all written down somewhere.

heres a summary;
four children, center of paris, habits formed, seventh floor, distant language (both english and french...because as i am alone, silence is popular.)

No television, radio, news, film, internet, computer, car, oven, lotion, backyard, telephone (that i can call from), tennis shoes, money, calendar, elevator, second pencil, clock, nail polish remover, balcony or sugar...but i am not uncomfortable. these possesions are secondary to my raison d'etre.

My purpose right now is to explore the city, meet new people, care for the french children, learn the language, watch the clouds as they accept that the sun is setting...and continue to listen to the world that i live in. I am observant here and it is refreshing to be in such a city. A city that wants you to paint it on a canvas. A city that wants you to write about it. A city that takes sensitive people and gives them little coincidences to ponder about. Like the other day...when, roaming the streets of st. michel, I saw a friend of mine from french class at USC cross the street. Or when I spent a day with another friend of mine from Kansas who happened to drop through Paris and together, he and I both ran into another friend from college. Or last night when my neighbor made me dinner and we discussed film, art and the future. Or when I found, in paris, a friend I had made in Cannes and we spent the evening at a party at the river with a class of film students at the school of cinematography that he attends. Or today when I missed a meeting I had...then bumped into my all time favorite actor Mathieu Amalric. He was such a gentleman.

Its all of purpose. Petite purpose...peut-etre grand...mais petite est bonne pour moi, maintenant.

PARIS, FRANCE: La Collector!!!

From a desk, I sit inside the French flat.

Rain is being thrown in my face. From white sources, it falls. Sunny skies, blue eyes, pouring from the smallest of gray places above. The clouds match the tower before me. All is gray here in July and i love it. Others seem disappointed in the heavens, as if they let us down another time, or something. Gray rainy days with a touch of sun at night. Such a strange concoction is this place that i study in. I study Life.

Papoo is here to save the day. Playing secret agent games with Arthur whilst Francois roams around touching things and giggling. Its been a fun week here near Raspail. I have enjoyed seeing friends at night and have spent a lot of time thinking.

Last night I realized what I wanted to do most in the world...and I made it my goal for the evening. For me, goals get done. So it haddd to be done.

I wanted to do something mindless. Thoughtless. Live without regard. Do nothing, for not the sake of nothing...but for the sake of not doing something. I wanted it so bad. Like a prize, it sat before me. This idea of mindlessness. Lost in its simplicity, I found myself trying too hard. There I thought; Every move I make has thought behind it, here. Every word I speak goes through the process of translation. Every line I draw goes from the stage of inspiration to realization. Every movement I make is mapped out before hand, so not to get lost in a metropolis such as this. I needed to be mindless. I needed to fall and not care or sing to the wall or cook for no reason or shovel dirt...or watch really horrible television or something. Read pointless magazines. I dont know! Something. But all I had was a thoughtful room, with a bunch of paper and Milan Kundera waiting. So how shall we resolve such a frightening situation?

I went for a run and then fell asleep. Thoughtless enough for me, it was. Though I would have rather been gardening, I think.

PARIS, FRANCE: L'huile d'olive et un petit lapin

i moved. i love it. but before comfort settles in, the train is sure to whisk me away to somewhere new. random people in the city greet me well when i ask questions. babies are really smart. vavin is my new home. i have many hours and little to do, but never finish everything i want to get done , so it waits for me until late in the night; where in my apartment i can capture all that i have experienced in someway or another; on paper. with shapes. and things of that nature. or with friends, in conversation. or alone; in thought and recognition.

outside i see the tour d'eiffel. i think it likes me. it looks at me often. rainy days and lots of keys; describes the day to day...travelling...me.

off to the baths and dinner, then paris and i will hang out again. for a week or so more.

though vague; this is now. and i guess thats all i got. my now isnt vague; just the description of it, for time is limited and thoughts jump around inside my mind, with different accents and everything!