neto as palace liason. somehow missing the haze and watching the rain slide down his bedroom window. how did he end up here. all manner of light folk passing thru place gate on their way up to do a wild tour of duty, and there's little neto relaxing as if the world were leisurely and all in order.

being the technique by accepting the fate's movements towards destiny. solo wumper in the vip room examining the extent of a myth gone beyond his ability to control it. imaginations constructing the universe with a role far to important for him to accept the responsibility of. in his own mind he is still the self deprecating little boy afraid to rise into the shape he molded for himself by reaching out and taking part.

elphinstone dawn. cold mountain elegy for the death of unrealistic dreams and the birth of a new sensibility. sunrise of over eden, mist circling the pines. basho himself could have walked this road and found it worthy, for who else but a poet can discover the meanings written into the very air.

later on in the sequence there was a moment of direct challenge regarding the outpath, and the ability of yo to navigate flow, but as i type now from the comfortable vantage point of history it seems i was the fool again. fell in love and got over it. worried about the van getting out. nerve racked myself before my set only to leave things elevated.

down tempo meta developments at frog hollow. end of an era.