Dean's California—wild, sweaty, important, the land of lonely and exiled and eccentric lovers come to forgather like birds, and the land where everybody somehow looked like broken-down, handsome, decadent movie actors. (Jack Kerouac, On the Road)
Lonely lonely California, you took hold of the old world and shook out the nonbelievers. The circle connects here on the edge of the great American west. You could ride with the brothers and almost rival the beauty of a woman and as well ease all the other pangs of being. You are easy and misunderstood, anchored and fleeting as is this allure travelers, risk-takers, and adventures feel for you. And while modern Common belief is that the universe expands left, it makes sense that we always say “out west” and “back east”. To the ends of the flat Earth! They’re brought from over the centuries still covered in dust, the settlers, gold rushers, bohemians, the lost ones, the broken and inspired. For those who don’t mind dirt on their bums or sand in their hair. Somewhere in between this sea and mountainside you’ll find em. Let the rest say what they want. Your oceanheart and citybones, hollywood monks and farmhand philosophers, even your foolish lifestyle tendencies, keeps us young creatives humbled. It’s a normal magic. To which we owe this kind king light of mind.