makes an ordinary thing like getting home from work into a mystical adventure.

It came rolling in, great flumes of it covering up the ave, cars, buses, people... I felt like I strode thru clouds, leaves crunching underfoot, singing blindly into the soft blankness, feeling like a magical being on a momentous journey.

I zipped my jacket up to my chin and tucked my arms tight to my ribs for reassurance. It was eerie, beautiful swirlings around streetlights and people looming up suddenly here and there, sharing a moments rueful grin.

Then I spilled into my house, back in the nice, normal warmth with the lego boats and cars vying for floorspace with the giant 3d bug puzzle and my paints and new sketchbook. Magic interlude over, but c'est la vie and it was time for some chicken soup anyway.

Tea and Krishnamurti tonight.

It's funny, I grew up on his teachings, but I don't think I ever actually heard his voice till now. My massage teacher, Svadesh, loaned me some of his tapes. I like 'em, he actually sounds sorta cantankerous, in an old hindu sage kinda way. He keeps asking his audience if they're getting it and gets downright annoyed at their reverent silence.

Wish I could've talked to him myself. It would have been good to meet the genuine article.