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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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The Photo Entry
Motorcycle Mama: The Photo Entry I went down to visit The Demon Grrlfriend at The Range, where she was teaching a Motorcycle Safety Foundation class. If this is the woman who shows up to teach you how to ride a motorcycle, you're so on your way to becoming a motorcycle mama like Sublingua:
And here is The Range itself, the place where I first learned how much fun life on two wheels can be:
And this here's my baby, my first, the motorcycle I learned how to ride on. Her name is No. 5. (Sort of like Double-Oh-Seven, only cooler.)
And here I am, re-enacting that fateful day in early August, when I became an addict:
This is my Frida, under cover. Ghost Frida, I call her when she is all safely wrapped up to keep the dust and the recent rain and the too curious teenaged boys off of her.
Here are the last batch of flowers I put on her altar, along with a photo of a self-portrait of her patron saint:
And here is another altar, a more impromptu refrigerator-top altar:
There you have it. The things and people I am grateful for. Do you need a list? I didn't think so.
More lies:
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