SIGHTS

The Thousand Faces of Old Man Winter

Two Wednesdays ago, the sun was shining, the air was crisp and there was not a trace of snow to be found anywhere. I would wake up to this on Thursday morning…

Welcome to Canada.

Later that evening after my post-work toke, our new friend Old Man Winter said hello to me from a tree, through two new heads he had just grown. One of them looked like Krusty the Klown in profile, and the other was either Quetzalcoatl or one of those giant heads on Easter Island. After photographically immortalizing them, I noticed the big heads had attendants. A small army of smaller faces peering at me from the new snow…

I ain’t afraid of no ghost.

The Green Grass of SILVER BROWN

An Email From My Old Lama (sort of)


Several lifetimes ago, when I was but a wee strapping young lad of twenty-three on the mean streets of the ‘Peg, I digested the writings of the gentleman pictured above. A New Yorker with a Jewish upbringing who spent most of the Seventies living in India studying Dzogchen under various lamas. Even after all that time on the Subcontinent, Lama Surya Das has never lost his thick Brooklyn accent.

I got this in my inbox recently, and my mind was blown clean off. It was probably just all the THC running through my veins at that moment, but the guy in the picture struck me as a dead ringer for Lama Surya Das. Maybe it’s a sign, like those reported visions of the Virgin Mary that keep appearing in grilled-cheese sandwiches. More likely though, it’s simply something to smile about.