Year: 2025

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N.10 Dream Town


This place feels like a dream.
As if slowly getting lulled into a dreamstate.
There’s a sense of space here. Very wide and vaporous.

I’m slower and sleep like a stone. Time flies swiftly.
I now understand the people I’ve met telling me they didn’t experience time passing.
Akin to a long peaceful rest, one wakes up months later without much recollection of the duration.

I’ve had the strangest of dreams out here.
No wonder this is mushroom medicine country, I almost feel their spirit beckoning me within and slowly roasting me into a receptive state. Although my days of soul searching through psychedelics are long gone, I understand why people do it here.

It feels like I have one leg in the world and one leg in dreamtime, simply by being here.

There’s also a redneck attitude that I appreciate. They burn stuff, raise animals and build houses. An honest and simple life. Everybody greets each other without being overly friendly and possesses a good sense of personal space. Reminds me of the backcountry I grew up in.

I like it here.

As the music of Alpha Mist cradles me into chills in a local art café, I ponder upon my choices. Examining my relationship towards intimacy. It’s been on my mind a lot lately and I want to change my experience of it.

You see, I’m a pretty open and welcoming guy but for some reason, when it comes time for intimacy, I tend to hesitate. I lose touch with my desires and find myself at a loss as to what I really want and what to do about it.

Maybe an old semi-conscious response coming out of too many heartbreaks or some sort of fear of rejection takes over. Doesn’t make much sense to wall myself out of the human experience of intimacy now does it?

And so I consider my life from the point of view of empowerment and humor.
I take responsibility for my actions. Ready to adjust and realign.
I approach it with the lightness of being.

I believe our human experience to be a perfectly imperfect dance.
There’s always room for improvement as the backdrop of perfection never leaves.
Both dancing hand in hand towards a profound acceptance of the nature of change

It’s all play.
Nothing to be too serious about.

And so, as I finish my second espresso, I am wired as a power plant and ready to move.
Time for me to find myself a bike and go for a ride. Let’s get intimate with this town.

Hasta la proxima, amigos!

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N.9 Thread Hunters

N.9 ‘’Thread Hunters’’

Writing is like getting schooled. The teacher kind of suddenly appears out of silence, imparts a lesson, then vanishes back into the void.
At least that’s what it feels like for me.

I approach writing as I do music. I enter a state of presence with curiosity and openness. Then I search and wait for the first thread to come into light. Once in sight, I pull.

I’ve read a saying in a book named ‘’The Lion tracker’s guide to Life’’ that goes like this:
‘’I have no idea where I’m going but I know exactly how to get there’’
I believe this illustrates the point quite clearly.

I remember years ago, composing music with my friend Alex, going into a state of creative frenzy playing the song again and again, adjusting and adding parts. Following the thread fearlessly. The adventure could be quite fast and very, very fun!

At the root of the process, there is the capacity for attention.
The more attention one can pay and sustain, the stronger the current we can hold.

To put it another way, the deeper one can see, feel, hear, touch, smell and experience,
the more information is then available for one’s usage.

Have you ever been in a situation where you could not figure out something, only to share your struggles with a friend who finds the answer within seconds of seeing the problem?

The obvious seems hidden to a momentary obtuse mind.

Art makes me wander back to Life and Life to Art.
It makes me wonder how to apply creative concepts acquired by experience back into my daily life. To put it in simple terms: How to follow the thread

I have been experimenting with this. Although I do not possess the same bravado in life as I do in Music, there definitely is a presence there very similar to art.

I only need to familiarize myself with the language a bit more, take actions, be unafraid to fail, learn as much as possible and, most of all, be playful.

That’s got me to the level of being able to improvise music for hours.
I’m pretty sure this’ll work out just fine in daily life too.

Let’s find out!

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N.8 Rusty Old Newspaper

N.8 ‘’Rusty old newspaper’’


I’m almost too afraid to admit it.
I was dormant for such a long while, I had forgotten the feeling.
As if wrapped in an old newspaper and left to gather dust in an obscure corner.

My god, why?
Why didn’t I do this before?

I hear you.
What the hell are you babbling about, Simon?

Having a fucking party!
By myself, for myself.
Letting it loose. Smiling and fooling around.
Man, that feels good!

Ok, so here goes.
I had just hit the public gym and stuffed my belly with 2 dobladas.
It was night time
I was filled to the brink and wired
No way I could sleep in this condition

So I hit the beach. Swam under the stars then it hit me.
Let’s get the banjo, stroll along the shore and sing my heart out like there’s no tomorrow.

Oh boy, did I!

I hadn’t felt so free in years.
After that episode, I did what all people overflowing with happiness do;
I wanted to share.

So I hit the streets, found a corner and played my heart out.
Passerbys smiled.
Some danced and played.

It’s the simple things
It’s the simple things that make all the difference in one’s life.

The most beautiful woman smiled at me with a cheshire cat grin.
I smiled back.
A woman danced to the sound of my raga, we exchanged a few moves and notes.
The guy from the gym earlier gave me a thumbs up while passing by.

It’s the simple things.

Little gifts from ife nudging you forward into a life of joy.
Akin to signposts showing you the right path, we receive smiles and tokens of appreciation when the going is good.

It’s up to us to keep at it and see where it’ll go.

For damn sure I’ve bought my ticket going all the way.
Let’s find out what Life shall bring!

Are you with me?

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N.7 A Very Jazzy Fever

Ain’t nothing better than the sound of jazz to get the blood flowing.
I’ve got fever and it ain’t food related, I’ve got the chills all over as the band gets it going.

Simple and straight ahead.
No fuss, no buss.
Right out of the jar with dirty hands.
Like stealing a cookie before supper, Jazz makes me a kid again.

Wired on a glass of juice, I sit beside the fire in a fish restaurant.

Another night that I go out to experience what this town has to offer and all I do is frantically scribble on my notepad and chastise myself for having forgotten my camera, yet again.

I’m still learning this whole blogging thing. I assure you, I’m getting better everyday.

In all honesty, nothing compares to great music.
At least for me, it’s the one medium that makes me feel like an explosion of life overflowing with joy. I sincerely hope you’ve got something like that in your life too.

The crisp sizzle of a ride cymbal during a feverish saxophone solo.
The wild untamed loudness of rock ‘n roll riffs
The tender surrender of a south indian voice chanting her devotion to God.
The guttural and primal raucousness of mongolian throat singing.

I could go on forever

To celebrate life, for me, nothing compares to music from the heart.
Although, maybe silence is a close contender.

But, when both silence and music go into symbiosis, I tell you,
That’s when the going gets real good!!

Try it!

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N.6 The Cowboy Monk

I ain’t here to reinvent the wheel.
When my friend told me ‘’let’s go the naked beach’’,
I said yes.

The dude abides as they say. The dude abides.

So here I am, butt naked in hot sands.
Never before have I seen so many balls.
Oh well, and so is life!

Now that I put my glasses on, there’s about 40 people on the beach, 37 of them are men.
So much for ‘’fair representation’’, this beach could’ve been called ‘’The land of cock and balls’’

Or better yet, ‘’Of Mice and Men’’

Ok, enough with the schlong jokes. We both got better things to do.

Flash forward 3 hours later.
We are at an ecstatic dance party in a hostel.
There’s a jacuzzi, a sauna, loud music and beautiful people.

We got in ye old broke cowboy way.
Walk fast, act as if you own the place and voilà!

Free party.

As I take a look around, I see the same people in different bodies from back home.
Sure, everyone has its unique flavor but the dish is the same.

I guess we can’t reinvent the wheel; people want to dance, laugh and fuck.

I get that.

Although I’ve had my moments, my years of parties are long gone.
I’ve always been more of a monk than a rockstar anyways.
I’d rather share a cup of coffee with a friend in the afternoon and look at the stars at night.

There’s a silence. From inside it grows.
I don’t know where it’ll take me.
Since we’re friends, I’ll be fully transparent and honest with you:

It kinda scares me.
I do not know the way back

Have you ever been to a place where there’s no color,
no judgment,
no preference,
no thoughts?

Since no description applies, I couldn’t even call it ‘’beautiful’’.

That place calls me.

I don’t know why. Maybe the freedom of it, maybe I’m just curious.

When I stay there for a time, everyone becomes the same. It’s hard to put into words but I’ll try to paint a picture; The beautiful woman and the lowdown bum on the street; I love them equally. My mom or a stranger? I don’t see any difference: they both are as deserving of love and respect as the other.

Truthfully, I think I’ve hit the road to dive into that place. To see where it’ll go.

Anyways, excuse me, I got carried away a little.

I’m currently hunched over my notebook at a party.
Maybe it’s time to go and sprinkle a dab of rockstar on that monk to even things out.

So long, friends!

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N.5 Musicians

Ah musicians!

What would this world be without them?
Who would make people dance and expand?
Who else could offer the profoundness that you experience while you listen to music you love?

Tell me honestly, are you ever as blissful in your regular life as you would dancing like crazy at a concert?

Probably not.

And so there I was in my room, relaxing, when the sudden sounds of live music beckoned me to it. Mesmerized by its rhythms, I became a puppet. A tender hand pulled my strings towards the band.

The guitar player is very good.
He plays bass and guitar at the same time, on the same instrument.
I do the same but man does that guy rips it like no other!
It took me a solid five minutes to figure out there was no ‘’real’’ bass player in the house.

A True Master.

What a joy to be barefoot at night, nursed by live music on the open terrace of a local bar.

Is there anything more to life?
At this particular moment, no, there isn’t.

You’ll have to excuse me,
I have to exchange the pen and paper for the feet and the dance floor.

So long, friends!

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N.4 ”Taking a shit on the Beach”

There was a party here last night.
By the looks of it, many nights before too.
The table is half burnt but if it still stands, it’s good enough for me; it’s hard to write while squatting like the Indians do.

And so, while also forgetting my hat on the plane, I left my shoes in my room. IIt’s early in the morning I thought. I won’t need them, I told myself. The ground won’t be that hot this early.

I’m about to pay the price for my ignorance.
Sitting here on the last remnants of shade, the sun keeps eating away at its carcass.
I look in the distance at the scorching hot sands and I know;
I’ll have to walk that valley of death pretty soon.

The dogs out here are pretty friendly, the hippies are being hippies, mosquitoes aren’t too bad and I’m good friends with a cat.
I like this place.

As I watch a dog taking a shit further down the beach, I make a mental note of its location. And then I’m reminded of a story.

Ok. Get this.

There’s this beach with black sands all over. The sand is magnetic. If you run a magnet through it, the ground moves and you’re amazed at the simplicity of life.

As my friend tells me the story, she says that a local pointed it to her while also asking, half jokingly: ‘’don’t tell the white people’’

Have you ever been to a place that you could undoubtedly call paradise? Only to go there years later to find its spirit mangled by tourist development and gentrification?

I have.

Even though I’ve never travelled very far yet, I’ve seen it.
Now, to be fair, I’m happy the people of this place can make businesses and thrive, although I have a hunch most of the hostels belong to ‘’foreigners’’.

But in truth, I don’t know.

That’s a complicated matter for complicated minds.
I leave it to wiser people to unravel

As far as I’m concerned, I prefer to tread gently wherever I go, give thanks often, mingle with the culture and most of all, never to take a proverbial shit on the beach.

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N.3 Grand Master Fish

N.3 ”Grand Master Fish”

Wrapped in a blanket of croaking crickets, on a dimly lit table, I end my day with some writing. Akin to fishing, being there and waiting is an inseparable part of the process.

As the cockroaches pass by my feet, I throw my line ‘’out there’’ in hopes of catching something worthwhile. A nugget of wisdom to share with my human compadres or a witty one liner to make you laugh and ponder.

The athena is out
The line is in the river
Now comes the waiting part.

The idea must bite but it has to hook before I rail it in.
It’s a process of seduction you see, a back and forth of glances and energy pulls.

It’s strange how, by aging, I see the underlying principles of things. From music to writing, the medium is different but the same spirit applies.

From fishing to the seduction game
From sport to meditation

It’s as if all is the same but expresses itself in a myriad of ways.
The One into the many
The many into One

I remember a time, as a young hot blooded musician, I’d play every note I could at all times. In hopes of reaching, I did not allow it to come to me by vitue of proper approach. I’m much wiser now. I only play the right notes at the right time with the right tone and dynamic.
It’s so much easier that way.

But that takes a cup or two of humility. A one way ticket to the inevitable realization of being a speck of dust in this grand universe oughta do it!

We ain’t all that grand and important. We ain’t useless and vain either.
We’re somewhere in the middle.
And, for a brief moment, we get to embody a ‘’me’’ all of our own.

Probably no one shall remember us when we part and that’s okay,
it’s part of the cycle of Life after all.

Oh!! Look!! A fish!!
I caught one!

His eyes are wide and piercing. His skin is like a greasy rainbow.
As it babbles a few words of truth at me, I listen intently.

‘’Yo Simon! let me back into the river, I’m not meant to be hoarded and catalogued.
Life is meant to be experienced fully with freedom, gratitude and grace!!’’

Right on, fish!
Right on.

I let him back into the river and take it as a sign that it must be time for bed.
I am conversing with an imaginary fish after all.

So long, friends!

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N.2 The Feline King and the Proud Rooster

n.2 ‘’The feline king and the proud rooster’’

As the chicken pecks seeds off of the ground, the cat takes up most of the space on the tiny table on which I’m writing. Senior El Cato was here before me. Who would I be to dethrone him from his rightful seat? This is his kingdom after all.

I do no such calamity and write with half my book dangling over nothing.

Today I woke up to the faraway sounds of snarling dogs.
Woken out of a dream that ended with some Neil Young lyrics:

‘’Don’t let it bring you down, it’s only castles burning
Find someone who’s turning and you will come around’’

I dreamt about my dad. I rarely do anymore.
He’s been on the other side for such a long time,
I barely think about him.

I believe dreams can be interpreted many different ways. Its meanings are subjective and fluid. Nevertheless, like most before me, I’m on a travel trajectory to experience more of myself and to uncover a new sense of sovereignty within.

And so, I advance with curiosity.

Now, since I never truly had a dad, maybe the idea of a dad represents the grounded empowerment I’m looking for. Also, in the dream state, my father asked ME for advice.
To which I replied those Neil Young lyrics.

My own dad, or the idea of grounded sovereignty asking ME for advice makes me think that the answers are within and that I am already my own master.

I just need to listen.

Now, as I said, interpretations are fluid and mostly for fun.
Nonetheless, I decide to take it as a sign of faith tugging me gently towards a life of trust and intuition. Speaking of trust, did you ever find yourself the crossroads between the pull to act at the instant and the rational mind trying to explain away the urge?

Akin to stumbling over one’s feet, toppling over face flat on the ground, and the opportunity to act has passed?

Since I come from music and improvisation, I am very familiar with that crossroad.
These days, I’m fostering a sense of flexibility and sharpness in order to bring more responsiveness in these moments where it counts.

From music to Life
From chaos to musicality
From serious sternness to childlike play.

As I’m writing, the rooster crows proudly, chest high and tall standing.
No hesitation
No second thoughts
No shame
He is as he is and does not hide any of it.

Maybe there’s a thing or two I can learn from that rooster.
Hang on, I’ll go and bribe him into teaching me his tricks.

I’ll be right back!

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N.1 Fighting rocks and Cumbia dancing

All is well, I’ve had the most wonderful night sleeping at the airport and I got into a fight with a rock on the beach and lost. Things couldn’t be better!
I wouldn’t have asked for a different start.

In life, we get to experience sweet and sour, hot and cold, love and hate, welcoming and rejection. It’s all there in the dish, there’s one big bowl and we eat with our hands.

Sure, we can cherry pick and choose only what we like but I feel that puts us in a position of missing out on many experiences that make us learn and grow. I prefer the approach of saying YES to Life and choosing my inner state regardless of what arises around.

Sure, one can get sick if forced into toxic places. But there’s always a way out, eventually.

Speaking of getting sick, I’ve been warned not to eat anything with ice cubes in it.
That’s too bad because it’s one of the first things I did, accompanied by food from a street vendor. So far, so good! I haven’t spent the night on ye ol’ toilet.

Music seems to be everywhere I go. Yesterday, I had the pleasure of being at the concert of an ensemble of 10 women, all singing and a dab of percussion to top it off.

It was grand and I got the chills. There’s nothing like women empowerment through music to give it a go at my meager skills of dancing!

I got on the right foot, twisting and turning, doing my best to learn the language, unafraid to make a fool of myself. As long as there’s heart in it, all shall be fine.

I’m off to a good start, don’t you think?