Loving my good friend Cecil's blogging about his cycling journey.
Fall is here, no hinting around anymore. The nights and mornings are cool, I should go buy socks.
Cool, bright mornings like this remind me of living in Mexico. I spoke to a good friend of mine in Mexico a couple of days ago. This is the time of year for fireworks all night, parties in the streets, the weather is cool, mornings perfect for going to the hot springs. Mornings like this I remember going to the little coffee shop I'd go to every morning, having a coffee and egg while an old famous poet nearby grumbled and sometimes said hello. I'd journal. After breakfast I'd walk across town over the cobblestones with street dogs following me, to the house of the painting master I studied with. I'd get there usually before he was even out of bed. I'd make coffee, start the fire in the art studio and warm-up sketching. I loved the smell of oil paints. Fanny, the resident dog, would lean against my legs as I stood at the easel. I didn't care that I was a lousy painter. I loved my life. I miss Mexico.
Como Te Extrano