Saturday I woke up. Agitated. I began to fume and rumble. Ranting and bickering with myself and the Gods. A wrestling match one will only win when the Gods are good and ready to concede. At last I heard myself proclaim… “I just need to make pots! I want to make pots, pit fire and get enough work together to have a show! I want to move back out into the desert and live at the ceremonial pit firing site!” I was a little taken aback. I knew that was what I wanted, but was waiting for the go ahead from Spirit. In that instant, I knew I had it. I was going home. Back to the land. Back to the wildness where I truly am at home. That was Saturday. This is Tuesday. I am almost done with the move. BEEP! BEEP! And that my friend is why I am called Shar Shk Buk. Because the Road Runner can change direction, time and time again, on a dime, at a moment’s notice, while all the while doing the dance with Old Man Coyote. Six months of preparation in Green Valley…two and a half years in the big city of a million people… And now Spirit is taking me home! Gratitude in abundance.