this week i

circled down kii peninsula for the old buddhist trail. trees are not alive on the inside, the organism ossifies like an inwardly-shedding snakeskin.

landed in magome at moonrise, huddled around lcd screens when the sun set at four thirty and the shops closed at five.

woke up in takayama, one more city with mountains in the distance.  no riskier than clapping first when the orchestra goes silent.

tasted a flight for two dollars, a loss-leader for sure.  time to head back, gentlemen.

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