Sleeping Around

Inspired by the writings of my wicked smart funny friends Jesse Seret (Perfect Calm), Trish Deitch (Distant Dock), Jessica Schickel (Chagrin and Bear It), Jen Sincero (Hey Little Bad Ass), and Janine Schulz (Oiling of a Rusty Mind), and encouraged by people I’ve met here and there, I will now commence the blog. Maybe just about beds. Maybe about other things too. But the beds are a constant. I’ve been keeping record of every mattress, hammock, waterbed, and couch I’ve spent the night on for some time, as many of you know.

Not every bed makes it into the bed collection. Sometimes I forget to take a picture. Once my computer was stolen on a night train in deepest India and I lost an important year of photos. Sometimes the beds in which I’ve slept would cause too much of a stir if made public, so. But there are lots beds in the bed collection. And stories behind each one.

If beds bore you then there is still some hope for us having a blogger/reader relationship. Let’s see how it goes. I’m only about 80% comfortable with this set up and welcome your input.

Love and kusheln from my red velvet bed in Berlin,

Noa
June, 2010
~ Monday, November 14 ~
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Samdrup Jongkhar, Bhutan (November 14, 2011) —We were in Dewathang for two weeks of empowerments and pujas and meetings. Pawo’s grandfather hosted a final dinner at his home about 10 minutes from the monastery at the bottom of an orange grove. They had fashioned lights out of banana leaves and candles and built a bon fire. A cow stood by and bees were making honey. We drank rice wine and then it was time to go. Phuntshok had arranged a ride for me in Samdrup’s car to Samdrup Jongkhar. Samdrup owns a garage down there with 30 mechanics. He donated some of the cars we used during Travellers and Magicians and even acted as the driver of the big truck. It’s a one hour windy drive down from Dewathang to S/J but Samdrup did it in 45 minutes. We talked a bit about blood lines and culture. “You westerners don’t care so much about who your grandparents are but to us it is of great importance.” My mix of Iraqi, Basque and Welsh blood amused them. Meanwhile I became extremely car sick and was happy to arrive at Samdrup’s house. An elderly man with a huge mala opened the chain link gate and let us to the car yard. Samdrup’s house is just behind. His wife was very kind. They gave me a nice room. Maybe a kid’s room. We’d been up since 4 a.m. for Rinpche’s long life puja and I was glad to be so tired that I didn’t have to fill any time. Just went to sleep. In the morning I could smell the engines in the yard. Samdrup drove me to the border checkpost where I was stamped out of Bhutan. Am Chime, Sangay Tenzin and his wife met me there at 6:30 and together we waited for the police escort to take us across the dangerous parts of Assam. There is conflict and there were men with guns. We drove ten hours east to Phuntsholing where I was stamped back into Bhutan, dropped my bags and set about finding my way up to Thimphu.

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I am noticing that I have a permanent furrow in my brow with lines aiming up and outward from a point between my eyes. It’s the kind of thing people get botox injections for. Even when I am not, I appear concerned. But most of the time I am a bit concerned.