Fri Mar 25, 2005
I’ve just had a weeks vacation here in Port Townsend at “The Loft”…Lots of cool spring sunshine, beaches, seagulls, seapups, bobbing yachts and clacking pebbles…clean bright-eyed ladies painting faces on sidewalks…reed-thin trees swaying and swishing in the heady sea-breeze…hippies in hot Spring pools, phat beats and screwdrivers, Japanese tourists trying to pronounce “Juan de Fuca”…Showgirl theatres on a timeline hiatus, Sun-dried tomatoes and Olive oil in a fairy-light Italian dream, all roads leading to nowhere or to lands end lanes, pristine white barracks and the ghosts of soldiers whose war ended on a football field, batteries and spotlights and nuclear submarines on secret missions to spy on Russia…bored billy-goats with quizzical expressions and yellow eyes, Toxic shellfish and messianic paper mills…Scottish priests jilted by brides-to-be and the castles they built out of broken dreams…