Another overcast day in Berlin. I feel so at home here... just as I feel at home in Mexico City, San Francisco and Brooklyn. Just as I felt at home recently in New Orleans and points in between - the radical faerie communities in Tennessee and Seth Garrison's family home in rural Mississippi...
Comfort in motion. The comfort I feel riding the subway uptown when I can grab a seat. My most focused reading occurs in a two-ton bread box clanking and shaking beneath the asphalt and steel overhead. Nowhere to go because I'm already going. The same comfort I feel on a plane. Stillness as I'm hurling through the air at 500 miles an hour. Perhaps, like the molecules and atoms that comprise my flesh, bones and blood, I am meant to be in perpetual motion. Moving so fast the illusion of something solid is created. An illusion that has reality in the world of things.
What I typically think of as 'wanderlust' has always seemed at odds with my desire for 'community,' but as I give myself over to the former it seems less and less at odds with the latter. Dalston Superstore is a neighborhood bar off the L train, and JohnJoseph took the J/M/Z from Berlin. I meet Patrick Wolf at Pork, and he's just wandered down the road from Rawhide with Mx. Justin V. Bond. The Spank boys arrive to London as I'm leaving for Moscow, and we meet up at the Joey Arias show I'm presenting in Berlin. A bee hive, and we are the bees busy making honey.
* Image: Honey Soundsystem
