I woke up late, and felt like Kerouac at the start of Big Sur; "The bells were sounding a sad, wind-swept Kathaleen..." as he lay on a cheap hotel bed in San Francisco. I made coffee, called the temp service to say I'd be late, and had that sweet first hit of caffeine. The wine bottles from last night stood like disapproving sentries around the apartment. A glass still held a little wine--I punched the radio button and Debussy piano etudes started playing. I stood naked in the living room of ...

And so the inevitable personal business has to be conducted over the lunch period--a snack purchased from a sidewalk cart, laundry detergent purchased after standing in an annoying line, collect paycheck, another annoying line at the credit union--then walk the 15 or so blcoks back to the corner office work space. Summertime, headed for 9o degrees in Portland, and it's impossible not to look at women and imagine a tryst by the river or at the coast. The Forecourt Fountain is a mulit-leveled f...

I woke around 4:30AM, and decided to use the quiet time to go on a quick hike through the huge, forested park a few blocks from my apartment building. It's called Forest Park, and contains a 30-mile long hiking trail, which I hiked for a few miles this morning. The quiet of the morning is in such contrast to the chaos and frenetic activity that begins as everyone plunges into their day. I walk up a street that goes upwards, crossing a bridge from which I observe Mt. St. Helens, almost mystic ...