| I found a rugged quartz crystal in our garden | | | | My life as a rip off artist now began in earnest. |
| yesterday and brought it to my writing table, to gaze | | | | One day, I took Alphia Lee for a walk in Golden Gate |
| at its beauty and reveal its mystery as I write, like | | | | park. A squirrel distracted her from the beloved stick, |
| gazing into a crystal ball. | | | | and damn it if she didn't run in front of a fast moving |
| The five crystals in the center of it are perfect, in their | | | | car. She crawled back to the side of the road. |
| own wild way, like the days I spent in total conflict with | | | | I remember crying and kneeling beside her, going over |
| myself, with society and the world. | | | | her body, getting a sense of how badly she was hurt. |
| It brings to mind one of my favorite Alphia stories, my | | | | A car pulled over and a young man asked to take me |
| golden German Shepard Collie of the 1960's, the | | | | where ever I wished to go. |
| pre-Funk commune years, occurring several months | | | | He had an old blanket and we carefully laid her on it. |
| after the communal caravan arrived in San Francisco. | | | | Then he drove Alphia and me to the big rambling |
| We found our large Victorian house after several | | | | Victorian house that was our temporary abode. |
| weeks of illegal camping around the jagged Pacific | | | | We prepared a bed for her with old blankets and rags. |
| shore hideaways and in the many untamed parks for | | | | She'd look at us with a forlorn Muki eye, the dog who |
| which the city is famous. | | | | joined me 28 years later to show me true love. |
| The caravan people had remained disgruntled in spite | | | | That look inspired me to slip into the meat department |
| of the constant dog/God guidance surrounding us. | | | | of a local Safeway, and steal one steak a day for her, |
| A chasm developed between those who wanted to | | | | and for her only. |
| join the ranks of the work-a-day world, and the four of | | | | Then we'd sit with her for hours, stroking her neck and |
| us who went on to establish the Funky Farm | | | | body and encouraging her to come back to us. |
| community and knew that going to work was | | | | The long intimate times we spent with her were |
| antithetical to living creatively by the seat of our pants. | | | | patient and happy. We did not desperately plead with |
| I had come to a place within myself where I needed to | | | | her to live rather than die. Rather, we coaxed her |
| live outside of the mainstream, established 9-5 ho-hum | | | | gently, showing her our love, and gave her the great |
| I'm beaten down, kill me now style of existence I | | | | option of living with a handful of rogues completely |
| imagined my father ascribing to for his thirty-five | | | | alienated from society. |
| working years, at the same place, doing the same job, | | | | She opted to spend a few more years with us in our |
| everyday. I'd think of an exhilarating alternative, bet on | | | | experiment of living--dangerously. |
| that. | | | | |