Next year it will be illegal to hold a phone in your hand and use it for communication or possibly photography while driving. There will be an exemption for some commercial, transit, emergency, and agricultural drivers for three years. Thats plenty of time for me to come up with a hands free camera.

Sometimes I drive clients to medical appointments and I wonder how they are handling the stress of a potentially major physical condition. The test results could be serious. I play classical music at low volume and drive extra smooth. Behind the glass walls people transition into a new chapter of their lives while outside the traffic flows at full speed.

Off to the races.

I got home at 1230am and got up at 4am for a 5am pickup. I dropped off at one airport then headed for another for a second pickup. On days like this I like to have breakfast in a booth with a newspaper next to my plate and I cut my pancakes into pieces before I eat. I read an ediquette column loyally but I had to break it off when she adamantly insisted that pancakes are not wheat products like dinner rolls that can be broken and buttered piece by piece. I eat with my right hand, turn pages with the left, and I'm not hurting no one.

Just a few yards over the center divide traffic flows calmy, drivers turn off an exit and head for their destination, perhaps a party or a warm home. This morning I was driving this stretch of road and my passengers and I saw a small pickup truck spin out and slam into the center divide, the truck slowly spun around and made it safely to the shoulder, no air bag, I called 911. Yesterday morning I saw a car spin out and slam into the back of a tow truck that was parked behind an overturned car.

I was stuck in a backup for half an hour last night behind a four car crash.

After a dry winter the rains appeared this week with car wrecks at predictable places.

Why do people collect things, many things, and organize those objects into groups and either hoard them and guard them with alarms and dogs or display them behind glass beyond reach, touch, or usefulness. They become museum like pieces available only to the eyes and perhaps they were never used, only saved to remind us of things they resemble but surpass in design or rarity.

Keeping a house, grasping a hold to the middle class, possessing a container of potent amulets, being in charge, putting forward a face of control. The upper end of things, capable of containing, gaining and owning a position on the ground. Defending attacks from pairs of opposites such as cold or heat, hunger and thirst, and regarding a specific feeling to the world such as contempt, dispassion, dismay, or esteem. It becomes the origin of things that become familiar or a place for the commonplace, a target of affection. Standing as a dwelling of a lineage, welcoming or knowledgeable.

I enjoy riding my bike around after a long days driving, today was an eighteen hour day and five trips over the mountain and back. Thankfully the roads were as calm as a vacant bench at midnight.

Almost got hit by a car entering the roadway and moving into my lane. The driver wasn't signaling or looking. I was on the shoulder and honked then the other car lurched away and lost a wheel before coming to a stop on the opposite shoulder. My passenger and I drove off, there was too much traffic to pull over and we didn't make contact. Later I was pulled over by two troopers who said a motorist called in a hit and run. After we explained the incident they let us go on our way.

Go from one place to another and make a journey of some length or abroad through a country or cover a great distance. Move or proceed in order to advance or progress. Thats the definition of travel. While waiting for a traveler at an office my traveled eyes roamed the traverses of light through a sculpture like light source. It reminded me of a sculptor who makes his three dimensional pieces look like drawings. The lines look like they're traveling but are static. It's the light thats moving into my eyes. Sculpture that is solid or hollow conceals and withholds that much space and light but an open work piece reveals and shares the space it envelops with its myriad lines. Its an embrace of matter and space. Instead of just reflecting light it incorporates it as light weaves its way through.

Poets in town, just traveling through on a national tour. I thought I'd chauffer the two women (and their butler / driver) to the reading and later to dinner where they salted their plates like ordinary mortals. I bought them wine which they drank from glasses not jugs. I could drink two jugs a day but now I watch the poets sip their wine. Where there is food and people and wine there is always not enough time to tell all the stories, share the information, laugh and listen. The water swirled around the wharf like deep dark red wine. The poetry on Mars is just ok, the poems from Venus are sublime.