Excalibur

I remember the view from my room at Exaclibur, Las Vegas. It was quickly dark, and the beautiful alit horizon slept with us. The fabulous Las Vegas strip is beautiful.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Electric Wires

When I see little black birds on overheard power lines, they sit and stare at each other in, I imagine, serious discussion. I wonder, do they envy the chugging country train as much as I envy their wings? I doubt it. Because when they leap off the electric wires and feel the rush of wind through their feathers and bite their eyes in glorious beauty they realise with me how my lazy feet long to leave the ground for the sky.
Read more

Maria DeSanctis

"His writing was sparse, elegant and full of self-deprecating wit. When he described smoking a cigarette under a desert cloudburst, he was Hemmingway to me, or Graham Greene, every mysterious adventurer framed by solitude in a foreign land. We drained the hotel minibar daily and greeted the sunrise exhausted with room-service coffee. A few long kisses, no physical affair... For my husband, forgiveness was not an act of heroism or even complacency, but an instinctive gesture of compassion and the deepest friendship. My husband believed in the simplicity of commitment, not as default but as an act of will. So, I took a deep breath and let the other man go."
Read more

I left my heart with the gondolier on the gondola in Venice!

Venice Beach, California not Venice, Italia. The people were on their feet, rollerblades, skateboards, and bicycles. They dressed awkwardly, care-freely and carelessly, eccentrically and eclectically. The beach smelt stale and fresh, stalls littered the dirty-yellow sand, an old hostel served cold beer and barbeque burgers, a greasy-haired busker sang hard rock songs on his old guitar and graffiti aged the pier walls. The day was hot, the sun was shining and I left my heart in Venice Beach.
Read more