yerba mate

I so like Winnings Cafe

for the artists and students and homeless all hanging together bumming smokes from one another on a sunny cold patio in January while I sit drinking a second huge pot of ridiculously strong mate and arranging new bluegrass tunes by strumming on the fiddle I had strapped to my back while on the bike I'm riding from last night's rehearsal back to the train heading up to Santa Fe, all of which supports a feeling of

aliveness