The dragon lives three levels down, somewhere near 140 bpm. In solid techno, the rhythm of power and rage. The essence of me it thumps my solar plexus curling, unfurling one microbeat faster than the heart can race. Hands ball into punching fists pounding feet round the fire stomp boom! boom! with the warrior beat. …
Category: Life of Carmen
My hair has authority issues
These red roots are planted in my dad’s Russian line, carrying a genetic tendency toward rebellion. My great-grandfather was said to have been a hot-headed ginger and a fine horseman, which may have inspired him to hightail it onto a Canada-bound steamer just ahead of the Czar’s army. My mother’s hair was naturally jet black …
Mail-order bride
There are two things you should know about riding a bike: it should be easy, and it should not cause you pain. This is what I say to customers in the shop when they are hesitant about buying a new bike. They look at me skeptically, expecting that, like dental work or pilates camp, riding …
Lost: my precious thing
Somewhere between Fort Rodd Hill and the Tsawous rez where I camped for the night, my little black notebook disappeared. All my notes from the past year at Upaya and beyond, my lists, contacts, ideas, drawings, quotes, maps, jokes. The archive of my experience, the fresh tracks of my mind. The one item most precious …
Meeting the buddha on the road
Spine extended, shoulders back, chin slightly tucked. Elbows out and relaxed, like holding an egg gently in each armpit. Trying, but not trying too hard. Going for the sweet spot between effort and ease. On the uphill watching breath, on the downhill, watching breath. In the rhythm of the ride mind spins off into cadence …