July 1997

July 20, 1997
Time rolls on... I am in the campground of O'Neil Park celebrating a full moon ritual. Some people are friends, others are strangers... and always that sense of being outside of something. There was a line in a movie or play I once saw where the character expresses the feeling of being kept out of some huge secret that everyone else knows. She claims to be walking around and looking for some revealing clue in the faces of the strangers she sees. That is my feeling. And yet, watching and noting the behavior of others, I know that they don't have any secret to which I am not privy. The difference seems to be an ease of communion or a common history or something. I wonder to myself if in 3 years I might feel differently. I cannot say. Part of it is that more and more I abhor the banal and just don't know how to make the small talk that seems to be the glue holding some of these relationships together. Read More...