Santa Barbara

Its crazy how one town can bring back such old memories.  The first place I moved to out of my parents nest, a mysterious paradise which awaited  new friends and extended mind sets.  After being here in my new nomadic post-graduate life and looking at this town,  I'm in a melancholy state of reflection.  It's good to see a chunk of my life, my college life, wrapped up in one 5 year bundle of memories and people.

When I arrived into SB, I stumbled off the train after these kids got me a little sauced on the ride up from LA, I happily walked through the friday night happenings with my ipod singing me Bob Dylan to a perfect sound track of arrival.  And not after 5 minutes of getting off the train did I walk by a bar and hear some one yell out "WALKER!!!!!!".  It was some blonde bimbo plastic chick who used to live in the bottom apartment of my old house.  After chatting with her for a while I walked away with this great since of: God I love this town; I haven't even been here 5 minutes and people are already yelling my name.  A warm feeling and happy welcome. 

On monday morning, Roberto and I are driving up to Santa Cruz.  It has been fun going to the bars, eating sushi, having beach bon fires until 4am, and hiking through the magical mountains that embrace this place.  BUT, as much as I love this town, I'm not sure I could stay for any longer, or else I'd find my self wrapped up in all the drama and useless issues which many of these people find themselves lost in.  The real task of life is to have the energy and excitement of traveling while you are stationary in one place.

Passion Flower

The Beginning

I've got one more week left of plunging my cold fingers into stiff rotting fish and lifting awkward sized meshed lobster traps. Ya Ya, you say that's just what you needed Walker, well; it was, and now it isn't. I've learned my hard earned lessons and seen the fruits of my loins, ...I mean, the fruits of my labor; and now it's time to start out into the world of the unknown, the gang plank of society awaits my footsteps and yerns for me to lightly hold it's guard rails even though if you really fell the damn guards wouldn't hold up worth a shit. So, now I wait with anxious anticipation of my wanderings with my plastic ATM card allegedly loaded with electronic gold pieces, nuggets of our modern currency.