Que Suerte

And then we drove down to Mexico. Heading through the border gates, past the towering, glittering white granite and steel monolithic wall on our side and the ten feet of corrugated rust just south, looping down along the coast, on a road that makes the highway up near Big Sur look like a dowdy dowager aunt. And then, we ended up here. A deserted stretch of beach, lined with abandoned “Weekend at Bernies” style bungalows and dotted with black-gold sand and mysterious mother of pearl and bone jewels. In short, total paradise. More on adventures and treasures tomorrow…

infinite thanks and lasers to Mr. Egon Brainparts for the last two stunning photos. Like what you see? Listen too: E. Brainparts noise to be found here.

Author: loiseaufait

Little by little the bird feathers its nest, and object by heart burnished object we surround ourselves with lovely necessities of memory and function. It is these things that make a silly Apartment a Home or a silly Wednesday an Occasion. Whether my nest is an old farmhouse, a sixth floor tenement walk up, or a brownstone basement... whether I share it with family, vagabonds, women of heart and mind, or a little brown cat and a sweet ginger banjo, my principal joy is filling it with light and laughter (and corralling). View all posts by loiseaufait