Time & Place Tripping...

We were on the road yesterday. A journey thru the past. We had a rental, a sleek & sporty black car, and we drove West. The farther we traveled from the lake, the more everything seemed to get just slightly harder-edged. Which can't really be true, can it? And time, is it possible by driving West, we are going back in time? You know, just slightly morphing into some earlier, weirdly-real, time warp? Doesn't seem possible, but that is how it felt. Things got progressively real, really-real, as we traveled West. Realer than real. I suppose some of this is just an odd-ball nostalgia trip. We both, my partner and I, grew up in the Western Suburbs, far from the always transforming lake. And we were re-visiting places and times, and people from our formative years, years that don't really seem alive in us today, but are, buried deep in our beings, and alive in these old streets. In a sense, it's like we were revisiting our former selves in some of our former haunts; places now slightly different, but holding some original essence that still resides inside of us. Head-spaces we have seemingly left behind, but really, that are still with us, embedded deep down in our beings; in our bones, our DNA. The trip was almost like an excavation, digging down into our own lost, earlier selves. So strange, so surreal. A bit sad-making too. We could see time. Time passing and time standing still. Later, when we arrived back home, tucked in close to the lake, it felt like we arrived back in the eternal now. Out West, we were in some oddly-preserved, and oddly-disfigured past, back in our own comfy digs, we were alive again in the moment, now. Of course, it's all sort of an illusion, or a genial state of delusion. Home is where our bubble of illusion/delusion is strong and comfortable. Time be damned.