I struggle with how humankind ended up this way. We made ourselves slaves to money, and we all have to work and be a part of this thing when time is always ticking. And before we know it, a decade has gone by, and did I really get to do everything I wanted to do or say everything I wanted to say?

Everything is perfect. Everything is fine. The rules of life are made up. The rules only exist in your mind. Of course there may be courtesies And closures and laws to abide, But the zeal with which you play Relies on where YOU draw the line

I recently read that it's the left brain that does all that calculating, and the right brain that does the poetry. Somehow I've veered way towards the left. I've been doing it for years. Maybe I do art to balance it out.

Love is the only thing that makes the world spin around, I think. It's weird. We have to call it "love," because we have to call it something, but it's not a word. It's an energy. It's an act. It's an action. It's a natural thing.

It may be a hundred-year battle to turn around our industries and finally get everyone living on sustainable energy with technology that can keep our lives comfortable. If that's the case, the first 20 years of the shift have actually done a lot to support that. But there's still a long way to go, and judging by the state of the environment, we don't have that kind of time.

My days could be described as an ever changing palette of blues, greens, browns, and golds. Mostly because of surfing and garden-gazing. On tour, the colors are desaturated by florescent lights and dull grey carpets.

Yoga makes my day better as I am less likely to fall victim to my otherwise foolish & forgetful mind.