keep the wild inside

I can sell a property on January 1st next year and not have to pay any taxes on the profit, and this windfall would mean Borneo, a return to the Kalahari, and possibly my long-threatened move out of Lalalandia to Taos and the drought. I am stuck waiting for a movie executive's schedule to clear in Manhattan, and then I can fly back to the coast and grapple my destiny. So I do what I always do when Forward looms, and that's to look back. What is this piece, tucked away in my journals?

"She’s got wings, huge gossamer dreams designed to lift her into the sky, and she’s got a dragon’s mouth, each tooth a cool story and a tongue full of imagination; what is she going to say? She does an agonizing dance, and I see her foot is caught and scratched. Her wings beat against the trees and bushes, and I watch her, fascinated, because I know she wants to break free to play, the way her body is designed to and the way her limbs try to deny gravity and the cozy comforts of a flat Earth."

Hmm. The winds push me, magnets pull me. Taos. The Arctic. And now the Amazon. Of course the Amazon, as my niece sends me this picture from outside Manaus:

Sandie Black shakes her head at every destination, but nods when I say the Amazon. Nicole told me to buy a piece of land in Alter do Chao if I still felt the need to exercise my yuppie disease, and perhaps I should explore this little town outside Santarem.

Now?

see the preview pictures from the Amazon gallery

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