There are the rote facts of life, the plain material truth of things, and then there are the currents within. The singing angels, the demons, the fireflies, the banshees, the echoes, the dreams, the fleeting recollections of childhood and even pre-birth consciousness…the vague sense of a continuing infinite scheme and how we fit into that.

We all define our lives as a constant mixing of these two aspects, but the charm and final value of a person, for me, is about how much he/she seems to be dealing with the interior world, and how much he/she refers to those currents and laughs about them, and basically lives on the flow of that realm.

Some go there more frequently or deeply than others, and some are just matter-of-fact functionaries who let their spiritual side (what little there is of that) leak out in small little droplets from time to time. Like it or lump it, but Hollywood Elsewhere is almost entirely about that moisture…not droplets or puddles or tide pools in my case, but trickling streams and maybe even ponds. The past never evaporates. Or at least, it doesn’t for me.