CANOA.

The name itself evokes discovery and all of the splendor that freedom is made of. Here are some photos from my luna de miel on this enchanted coast. Greg, my strapping, Southern friend living in Canoa invited me to his hotel on a whim and was instantly a new pupil of sheer spontaneity. 5 minutes of packing, 30 centavos for the ferry taxi and 1 bumpy ride in the only Ford F-150-playing-Dixie-in-Ecuador later, I found myself in the Wild West version of Heaven on Earth. 

Imagine having nothing to do except to suit up for morning swims in the ocean or walk for miles acknowledging the beauty of creation. Imagine going out to sea with fishermen to lay their nets or hiking through green highlands in search of the infamous "love cave." Imagine having only to make a bed in the sand to sit all day writing and reading and listening to the wind and seeing the changes of one setting unfold. Imagine punctuality pertaining only to sunsets on the beach with a glass of red wine or a frozen Banana Colada. Imagine singing along to evening jams with serendipidous friends, all strumming guitars or picking a mandolin. Imagine massages, mango mornings and learning the art of cooking Plantains. Imagine a land with only dirt roads for bare feet and horses, surfboards to carry and ceviche for lunch. Imagine the unexpected gift of aprize lobster. Imagine a frozen ice cream on your lips after enduring a hard run on the endless coastline. Imagine being in a perfect place at precicely the perfect time with the perfect people. 

Yesterday Greg referred to our time shared in Canoa as a Midsummer Night's Dream. He invited me back to paint a mural in 2 of his new habitaciones in return for a month's stay. This girl can't resist days full of painting and playing in the sea. I'll let you know how it goes.