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Mc Hark

2004-09-21 - ten

Last night was charming. There is a little plot of land that looks much bigger once you arrive at it, up near Zuma beach, right past the fig farm, that a visionary named Hark has been working on for a year or more, I forgot to ask. His ultimate goal is to 'create a tribe within the most love filled place on earth,' and since I was meeting my friend Mick there, and he was still swimming down at the beach, I got the initial tour from Hark.

It's land, really. It was land with a storage barn until Hark moved onto it, and began it to be (is not a phrase) land with a purpose, and there were once five or more people that lived there too, but they didn't do much work, so they got kicked off the land, gently. So gently that they didn't know they were being kicked off, it's just that the land owner locked the gate, so their cars could no longer park there. But they still do sleep there in the driveway, two of those guys. I know this because when I left they were making rustling sounds, and it was windy, and the leaves were blowing, but not rustling. Only the guys were. That and Ferrard ran up to say hello and scared me silly.

When you're in a place that moves you, I believe you branch out and become a part of its whole, even if its for a short time. I like heat and sheets and doors, but Hark and Mick have a low to the ground hut with straw, and a babbling stream which Hark made. And inside the hut are some egg crate mattresses, and some big pillows, and big rocks that build the structure up, all along the walls. Hark is a computer genius, and that's what he does from the hut during some points in the day. With the lighting, when he sits in front of the screen, he looks like a majestic centaur, if I have my animals right. He's raw like me, but he doesn't supplement his diet with raw cookies like I do, and he's gotten to the point where he has it simplified to mainly fruits and vegetables. He is growing food as we speak, me to you. Mick has proven to be a tree planting powerhouse, and the lifescapes and structures of art that he's created in other cities and countries have kind of guided him here, naturally. He says that he's the guy working behind the scenes.

Hark did show me the scaled down version of the cave dwelling that they will be building, which doesn't look like it will blow away any time in the next decade, like the hut could, and even though I know nothing in particular about building materials, (my Dad's a contractor, yawn) I asked Hark about the durability of the potential structure. I was pleased to find out that he did in fact know what he was doing, and the tour resumed.

Hark is an interesting and insightful member of the tribe (currently a tribe of two, Mick being the other member). Every morning the tribesguys read the very touching piece that Hark wrote on the bus two days ago and then he read it to us, about 10 minutes after the time that Mick finally emerged dripping from the sea. I can't post all of it, but if you would like I can post a few of the ideas that the self titled Lovetopia tribe subscribe to. Do you have a choice? No, I don't think so.

"What Is Love?

At its root, love is expressed by being harmless, and supportive. We love our potted plants by trying not to break their leaves, knock them over, or put them in a spot that is too hot. We also love our plants by taking care of them, paying attention to their needs, watering them when needed, etc. That is what it means to be harmless and supportive, and thus loving. When we love, we forget about ourselves for a moment, and think about what we can do to help (and not harm) those we love (lest they shrivel up and die)."

Straightfoward enough, I was thinking.

Hark wrote his first song ever, which he sang to us too, about the tribe. That one I don't have a copy of, but it was really melodic and had two claps placed at key points throughout the song. I wish you could hear it. Hark, I wish I could hear it again, I'd sing it at work and mellow everybody out. It does fade out nicely on the repeat, something like,

"And I love my tribe (clap clap)

(decrescendo) and I loove mahh traabe

(shhh) Aand ahhh love...mahh...traabe."

We walked to the beach (couple of miles, who's counting) and then did a few sprints between the lifeguard stands (two cuts on my foot from my sneakers, I'm counting) And when we got back to the hut, Hark did a little work on the computer and then we watched The Song Remains the Same dvd. When I was 17, I saw Jimmy Page with my boyfriend and our friend Timmy (the liar) from England. He would always say he had tickets to see The Dead in his possession, but all he ever had in his back pocket was a fibbing problem . Finally, he came through on the Jimmy Page thing. His Dad owned a big bank I think, so for some reason we aquired skybox seats, and Timmy gave me three hits of acid, so I could "be where they were", and the entire place including Jimmy Page turned camoflauge after an hour. Page on stage blended in with everything, even the couches. Which is the idea on the land surrounding the hut, Hark told me. Everything should blend in with everything else.

"Ohell, look over here, and what do you see that doesn't fit in with nature?"

"Ummm. That black hose sticking out of the babbling brook?"

"Nope, it's that (microscopic to me ) blue piece of plastic in the grass! See, it doesn't fit here in nature!"

I thought, he should see my apartment. Nothing quite fits in with anything else there either, and he might just have a pack rat heart attack. Or not.

Mick, in the middle of the dvd:

"So you think you could live in a cave, Ohell?"

"Oh of course, hey."

By the time it was late and I had to go I also had to pee pee. I didn't know where to go, because

it wasn't a campground

or a commode

it was Lovetopia

a cave hut abode, hey!

She had to be shown. Good thing, I don't navigate well even in the half moon light through the brush, to the potty. I'm sorry, but I peed all over the pretty slate stone around the potty.

The tribe has a forgiving vibe, I heard the mission statement.

I said goodbye to the boys and had the best drive home. Mick gave me a Champion Juicer, which only weighed a little more than me. No room in the hut, I was happy to learn. I got home and my apartment seemed glad to have me home.

"You again?" I said.

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