Now that he’s got all the official stuff out of the way, he’s off to the Great Barrier Island for five days, starting very early tomorrow. I am ridiculously envious. It looks stunning! I am sure there will be photos…

I guess I was overcome by election fever in Austin. The next day in Austin was great, late morning cuddling listening to the rain fall on the roof, dragging ourselves out around 1ish for breakfast and getting a callback from Sandy Stone saying she’d love to meet up for coffee or something, so we all head to a place called Omelettry for fabulous omelettes, superb conversation and catch-ups.

From there, we planned to drive to Santa Fe, but a freak snowstorm halfway up I-10 put us behind schedule, so we decided to head straight for Palm Springs instead. A quick check of the map and we saw that Tombstone was only a few miles off the road. We stopped there for a cool but bizarre afternoon filled with whiskey at Big Nose Kate’s Saloon and re-enactors in the street.

Stopped in Phoenix, Arizona to have a meal with another friend of Doug’s. Finally made it to Palm Springs (there’s a lot of empty in the middle of this country). Met Doug’s ex-bf, Randy, who is absolutely fabulous, had the most amazing dinner at a Thai restaurant, talked about Randy’s current projects (I will be writing some great articles soon), watched his hummingbirds. Next morning I interviewed Randy officially on tape and then we headed out to a great Jewish deli for delicious latkes and sandwiches.

Reluctantly dragged ourselves away from his delightful company. Headed for Fresno to see Doug’s daughter and then back to Doug’s sister’s place.

So. Glad. To. Be. Done.

We had an incredible, incredible time but we’re both pleased to be stable for a little. Now there’s a whole lot of organization and then we’re on a plane next Friday heading for Melbourne.

I ordered Chartreuse while Doug tried out a new rum and we enjoyed blackened catfish for dinner and then one of the best, sharpest, wildest live jazz performances I’ve seen, all of us calling out, “oh yeah!” during solos and the clarinet sang sweet, deep sugar while the cornet wailed and the saxophone laughed at them both. The big guy playing the double bass burbled to himself as he plucked those strings, bee doop and bing, baby. And we clapped along, joy in our hearts and all the troubles in the world forgotten. When they played slow, it was a swelling wave of love.

We went down the road to DBA to see blues legend Walter “Wolfman” Washington after that, but it was too loud and not right, so we poured ourselves into a cab and home to our couchsurfing couch near Napoleon and St Charles, slept like babies and woke up early-ish to drive to Austin for Thanksgiving.

The rest of the quarter is gorgeous: old terraces and iron work. Razor wire strung with mardi gras beads is the only odd note, an indication of the poverty here and the crime rate.

Doug went to bed early, having slept badly last night but I wanted my New Orleans experience, so, after dinner at Kyoto near where we’re couchsurfing (and one of the restaurants recommended by PZB), I went out to see John Rankin play at a nearby hotel. While I was there, I got chatting to someone at my table who said that if I was only here two nights, I had to go see the Rebirth Brass Band at the Maple Leaf because they were the coolest band in town right now.

Sho’ nuff. I went there and they are awesome. They are Ozomatli quality and energy with an extra dose of soul and jazz and minus the hip-hop. No time for a proper review, sorry.

Tomorrow, jumbalaya and gumbo and other delights.

Still, the Georgia O’Keeffes at the Met were divine, especially her Black Iris which ‘makes vision drunk’, I loved Yves Tanguy’s future cities and bodyscapes and landscapes, good old Cy Twombly whose soft canvases always make me smile, Georges Braque, the Still Life with a pair of Banderillas right next to Picasso’s Still Life with a bottle of Rum, both 1911 and both the same palette. And some new names: John Cedarquist’s clever Little Wave sculpture, a trompe l’oeuil take on marketing and the overused Japanese wave and Joseph Cornell’s shadow boxes, especially Untitled (pharmacy) – little glass bottles filled with sand and shells and other mementos, something I think I might do with the glass bottles we have from Doug’s mother’s estate. And Calder mobiles hanging gently in the stillness of the gallery.

MOMA had an exhibition celebrating 50 years of Helvetica, which was fantastic. Yes, I’m a typography geek. Deal with it.

And I voted at the Australian Consulate, an odd experience, these familiar cardboard voting booths in the middle of New York. But I’ve played my part now, dutifully numbered 1-68 below the line for the Senate and 1-8 in my seat for the Lower House. For those voting back home on Saturday, let’s get Lying Johnny out. And check the AEC’s site for preference flows. Let’s give the Greens the balance of power in the Upper House and make the major parties do something meaningful for the people for a change.

I have a new (or perhaps the same old) interlocutor arguing for “Anglocentric exceptionalism”. I’ve spent a bit of today in the car thinking about the various ways in which I disagree with this person but I think I’m too tired to write a full reply just now. I certainly know I disagree that believing in human rights necessarily means I reject Derrida and Foucault. Baudrillard, maybe. The other two, not so much.

In New York itself, we’ve had a great dinner with my cousins, Vanessa and David and David’s partner Rachel at Thai Market on Amsterdam near 107th Street, where the fish was incredible (caramelized tamarind sauce with sweet chilli), the crab fried rice was just right and the tapioca pearls with coconut milk were delicate and subtle. The conversation there was also great, catching up with my cousins I haven’t seen for more than a year, hearing about their adventures in the New York film industry — Vanessa’s been working with starlets on Japanese television commercials and is in charge of shutting down highways for helicopter shots for another one soon, David is in the process of finding satellite Internet for an entire newsroom that will be camped out in some warehouse somewhere for a special event. We gave them the presents we bought in Peru and they were well received. David and Rachel are also Burners so there was some talk about Paul Addis and various other burner things, and discussions of good vodka bars.

Then yesterday, Doug and I had breakfast at Café Mogador down the road from where we’re staying with Matt in the East Village. Moroccan poached eggs with a spicy tomato sauce and fried potatoes done perfectly. Another spiced dipping sauce for Doug’s pita bread; I just put it on my eggs. Matched perfectly with sweet Moroccan mint tea.

And for dinner, I asked Matt to find the gluten-free pizza place I’d heard about. It’s called Risotteria and it’s on Bleecker near 7th Ave. It was unbelievably good. The gluten-free breadsticks were soft and fluffy and you wouldn’t know they weren’t regular bread. The pizzas we had were roasted garlic prawns and gruyère and the second was mozzarella, portobello mushrooms and truffle oil. The crust was a little thin but held together and the toppings were superb. The lemon cheesecake and chocolate brownie were also great. We forgot to buy the packet mixes they sell so I guess we’ll just have to go back (chocolate cupcake mix!).

hawk_eye

, or if I were a world traveler like

merovingian

, I would have more details for you of the self who split off from me as we made the decision to go down I-90 to Rapid City instead of 385 to Deadwood on our way to Mount Rushmore as the light faded.

That alternative self would have seen a town where little has changed since the 1880s, streets lined with saloons, a town where Wild Bill Hickok was shot in the back of the head playing poker, hand full of black aces and eights, now called the dead man’s hand, the town where Calamity Jane is buried. That alternative self would have then had 35 miles of winding mountain road to climb as the sun faded and would have got to Mount Rushmore long after dusk.

She would have had more stories to tell.

bevsob

: I was really hoping to say bye before we left the country) but I came down with an awful cold in Olympia and spent four days on

goldfish42

’s sofa.

We saw a bald eagle, stayed at Chico Hot Springs, saw bison and elk and muledeer and a coyote and we heard a pack of wolves howling the sun down. We saw — and smelled — mineral hot springs and the multicolored travertine years of flow have created.

Sunset was glorious: oranges and tangerines glowing on the underside of beautiful clouds. I love the way the trees here are outlined sharp against the sky.

Such alien landscapes

Elk at rest

Mammoth Springs

Rosanne’s first snow in about 15 years

Trees at sunset

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As we drive out of the city, we end up in breathtakingly beautiful countryside. Juan tells us that his pueblo is nearby and we stop with a friend of his for a jack. The mountains ahead of us are covered in snow. The day is crisp and clear.

When we get to Moray, it’s amazing. We’ve seen so many ruins, but this is entirely different. This was the Incan agricultural lab — rings of terracing with a 30 meter drop from top to bottom but with a more than 15 degree drop Celsius. The Incas used it to test what crops could be grown at what altitudes. We are standing in a 600-year old scientific laboratory and it’s an awesome concept.

Chinchero turns out to be a lovely village which would be quiet and serene if it wasn’t for the clamor and push of the market folks demanding we look at their items instead of someone else’s. We buy various gifts for various friends and family.

Then it’s back to Cuzco, an early night for a plane at 7.15am, the day in Lima, first at the art gallery (excellent) and then more trinket shopping. Last stop, the bones of the Spaniard invaders under the church, just to fill in time, then a midnight flight back to the US.

All in all, a wonderful, wonderful honeymoon, and one we’ll remember for a very long time.

PS:

qamar

and

aethyrflux

: Check out this stuff on quantum physics and consciousness. I think you’ll appreciate.