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Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! I am on my mobile version of the door-to-door, going town-to-town holding readings/gatherings/discussions of my book "But What Can I Do?" This is my often neglected blog mostly about my travels since 9/11 as I engage in dialogue and actions. It is steaming with my opinions, insights, analyses toward that end of holding all life sacred, dismantling the empire and eliminating violence while creating the society we want ALL to thrive in

Friday, July 28, 2017

The males I'm meeting this trip...

I get on the road again by 7:00pm as the brief yet thunderous rain storm has cooled everything off, thank the goddesses but still, I don't make it to the rest area at Las Cruces (another favorite spot of mine) until 11:00pm.

Another male, this time a tall Native man who later tells me he is 41, is standing by my truck waiting for me to return from the bathroom. He asks me if he can take pictures and of course, I encourage him to.

He identifies himself as Apache, an AIM activist, and an artist. We talk about racism and the reservations he is coming from and going to, the womyn being murdered at the Juarez/El Paso border, and the work he is doing to inspire especially young men to stand up and protect the Mother Earth. We talk about Standing Rock and Oak Flat. #SayHerName and the Native womyn murdered on the northern border of this country.

And he shows me some of his beautiful art work and again, I marvel at and treasure our interaction. How very fortunate I am to meet and experience sharing with these strangers who are my people.

Texas Canyon Rest Area

I make it to this special place before the sun rises and I'm grateful to be through the California desert that never cooled off last night.

A few angry white men truckers (both the 18 wheelers and the pickups) blast horns, flip me off or drive their rigs over the line to my side of the road during the night but here at the rest stop, only very positive people react to my messages.

One very tall, beautiful dimpled man whose smooth skin glistens like oiled walnut and who later tells me he is 1/4th Japanese rushes over intercepting me as I return to my truck from a brief jog around the area. Even though the immense sky has filled with masses of clouds, some promising rain, it is still too hot to stand in the sun for long or exercise.

Sora - which means sky in Japanese - is a struggling photographer on his way to a photo-shoot for friends getting married. Of course, he wants to take pics of my truck and post them on social media.

We of course talk about Cuba and the significant value of both musicians and artists in that country compared to here.

And we talk about gentrification and the recent fires set to small homes in Oakland in the neighborhood where developers want to tear down old homes and build new expensive high rises.

A couple Native men stand on the hill looking down towards us and sing an enchanting song that silences us and fills us with even more beauty.

I'm so filled and strengthened, ready to go forward into fuckin Texas...