Friday, August 29, 2008

Freedom



What's it to you?

I've been mulling it over in my head this past week - what freedom is to me.

It's the fact that I am here in Seattle visiting friends, new and old, and sharing new times. It's knowing I'll never have to be a human mixer for garlic, salt and parsley ever again in my life. Freedom is having the support and ambition to bike for a cause, a cause that one of my most influential friends believes in so wholeheartedly, he has spent countless hours toward. It's sitting at this computer, even though mine has disappeared into a thief's pocket. It's that I have back-ups, ways away from tragedy. Numerous friends, family and co-workers (who are both friends and family in my eyes) who are here for me when misfortune falls.

I don't think it is sheer luck that I am an eternal optimist, or that I have people around me who support me in such loving ways. I know a large part of my blessings come from the propitious life I was born into: a loving, middle class family with a rebellious twin sister to compete with and continuously stir up my own voracious nature. But, like one of my best friend's professors once said to him: "Adult life mostly consists of recovering from our childhood."

We all have issues that we didn't necessarily concede to as children, but they were pressed upon us like labels on packaged meats. The recovering process involves figuring out what our innermost values really are all about; most often than not, they are different from our parents.

In this case, I'd like to say mine are somewhat different. I value my freedom. And what my freedom is, is much different than my parents' idea of freedom, and freedom to most Americans, for that matter.

While I find freedom in the ability to choose whatever path leads me down the most fulfilling road of emotions, they might expect me to choose security and insurance. While I find freedom in not having to pay someone every day of my life to go to sleep, so I camp, or sleep in the back of a van, they might consider freedom to be the ability to pay for lodging, or rent. While I find freedom in using my strong body to do things I am still capable of, they might think freedom is choosing to live in this blessed country we were born into. I understand all the legitimacy behind their ideas of my freedom, but do they understand mine? I understand that worry and heartsick love for one's child can sometimes color a parent's idea of what is "good" for their child. *

But what I consider good for me is following my heart and having an army of allies behind me. A slew of people who love and care enough about me, where they understand my values and good judgement. Who believe in my character and strength. Who will hug me when I come home, whether they think I am failing in life, or prospering.

Because who are we to judge another's view of freedom? Whether it be a friend, neighbor or family member - we live in a country that claims to bestow this gift upon all its citizens. I intend to receive it with open arms, and hopefully one day give it back to others who cannot have it so easily.


* And important note about this post is that it stems from a friend whose father wholeheartedly disagreed with her decision to do something that she has already decided to do. My heart crumbled a little, and then I spoke to my father who reassured me that love is understanding and a family does not react so cold-heartedly.

Monday, August 25, 2008

"Oh, the S.P.O is silent... it's pronounced HELL."

I just walked in to the home away from homes, Seattle World of Sparky Nate and Ellyse.

And it rained. I don't think I would have minded as much if I had changed my clothes in the last 30 hours, but I feel ucky.

So, as you can see, I wrote some poetry in the last week. Yes, poems (whether good or bad) came out of my brain and onto paper. One was written at the Doug Fir Lounge when I was hiding in a corner, away from the socialites and such. The other two, on the train back to Seattle from Portland. I am excited that they occurred. I was getting nervous that I didn't have any thoughts about anything anymore. I do.

The tour was quite an experience. The number one part about it was being able to hang out on a "road trip", and not drive (even sleep some in the backseat!), not be responsible for car troubles, and be around three very hilarious dudes for 4 days straight.

I don't think I said much about Spokane, but I really liked it. The owners of the Empyrean were super cool. Chrissy invited us out to celebrate her friend's birthday and nachoes, limos and potential waffle-fest ensued. We then crashed at her nice smelling home.

I wish I could be Chrissy Riddle. She owns a sweet coffee shop/garage venue and teaches creative writing at a high school in Spokane. And she's funny. Rock on.

Anyway, we then went to Portland where the guys were interviewed by Don Andrews from PDX LIVE Music.

I tried to write up my own interview, but it was all over the place and my notes just look like hilarious left-handed scribbles. I need a tape-recorder.

My favorite parts:

N: It's definitely a step above the last record I recorded, before I met these guys. It was kinda more of a learning experience than anything
D: Kinda like Sesame Street?
N: Yes, yes exactly. 1-2-3-4-5-6…7-8-9-10…11-12
D: Today's episode is brought to you by the letter "L"
N: The letter "L" is a fucking sellout
D: Yeah…I know
N: It's just trying to get its name all over…corporate whore man

and also,

N: We just came in from Spokane. Spoke-an, spoke-ane. How do you pronounce it?
D: the S.P.O is silent, it's pronounced hell.

and also,

D: Here in Portland, we hate Washington.
N: Yeah, Washington did try to kill Jared. Poison him with their Avo Cados

and also,

David Rogers: Yeah, I might shoot myself if they make me listen to Radiohead on the way home, again.
Don: Go to Wal-mart. They have everything. (get it? a gun... ha!)



Anyways, back to regular life. Back to dealing with people who steal and rain droplets falling on an oh-so-not-waterproof sweater.

Pictures of The Avett Brothers concert next!

Horseshoe's a Metaphor for my mental Hobby

He wears horseshoe shirts & a smirk on his chin
it's hard not knowing when I'll see him again

Easier to believe in never ever when
there's distance like priorities and politics

Better to believe in better when apart
Better to see it as a vacation for the heart

Knowing is tragic; I'd rather turn a startled corner
than be warned of your jump-start hiccup scare

I sped up

I walked slow, hoping
you'd follow - run up
from behind and...

but I didn't walk that
slow, and I don't know
how to finish that last
sentence

So I speed up

Poor Foreshadowing

your shadow
still rests on my chest -

pressed taut,
like an eternal silhouette,
meant to never
let me forget

but, like historic news articles,
or smoke from a gun,
it too will fade,
as love often does.

The Avett Brothers

Check

them

out.

Made a bad day happy.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

"Got nothing left but it ain't bringing me down, I'm just gonna follow the sound."

Hanging out with Erin in Portland, we parked downtown and walked to eat at her favorite Lebonese restaurant. It was closed. So was the indian restaurant nearby.

We ate at a Thai restaurant, then went down to the Saturday market to find my favorite little wooden creature that I found there two years ago. It was not there. We watched some drummers drumming and artists humming. It was good time.

We then went to Stumptown. Sweet coffee shop conducive to great conversations about colors and senses.

When we returned to Erin's borrowed car, the passenger side window was smashed in. My first thought was "Ope, wrong car!" But it wasn't. And all the albums and expensive jackets were left sitting to themselves in the backseats. My backpack however, with all my underwear, my laptop, Leland*** and my favorite necklace that David bought me in India, in it. And all my Bumbershoot tickets. That's 12 tickets to be exact.

So we listened to Radiohead's song "Talk Show Host" and smiles returned. Then we got back to Erin's apartment and listened to Human Highway "The Sound".

got nothing left but it ain't bringing me down, i'm just gonna follow the sound

was hardly applicable in terms of having NOTHING LEFT, but seemed appropriate to embrace at the moment.

I could care less about the stuff, but I can't believe that necklace was off my neck. I haven't taken it off in over 3 months.

Nick thinks that Leland got disgruntled about how I have been neglecting him on the adventures and took off with all the stuff.

I hope he sends postcards.


*** Update: While I was giving the policeman my report, I told him about Leland and said, "But the duck was free, so he's not worth anything." In all seriousness, Rillings 1999 responded "Yes, of course he is worth something. I will write down priceless. I have a stuffed gorilla that has traveled around with me for 20 years named Gabriella."

I am glad he understood what's truly worth something. The Avett Brothers closed with their song "Gabriella" tonight at the Oregon Zoo.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Land of Port


Skidded into Oregon around 2 pm, Portland at about 4 pm and I thought right away: I want to move here.

I love the Doug Fir Lounge, the people, the streets, the signs, the parking, the bikes and the beer.

Good buddy from Alaska Erin is meeting up tonight with a few friends. It should be good word games and sarcasm galore.

The boys are leaving me alone to the streets tomorrow, but I kinda don't mind it. I am not used to being around people this long.

Yeah for the northwest!

Friday, August 22, 2008

if tangles of waves bleed between the rocks enough, erosion occurs

If you sit at an unoccupied spot
on the side of a river
you'll most likely be alone enough
to hum all
your burdens to the water

but one was there, as
always

and

we stood across, as if
coast to coast and could
still see every one of her
freckles

each speck, a hex arranged
to emphasize her eyes
as beams, masers in the
sky

on the back of the mailing list for eugene, oregon

vests are the new hegemony
a promise fake to hypocrasy
(I spelled that wrong - don't mock me)

it's all a big head fake -
we (meaning the collective)
wear big headphones
to look uninterested
& stare into our hip moleskins to
feel important

though we're alone
and it matters more
when we care

Soap Lake



It was hard to temporarily leave Sparky and my new buddies Ellyse and Nate behind in Seattle, but it had to be done. Such is life when one is on tour with a rock band.

not an Airplane and I are currently in Spokane WA . . . we woke up early (tenish) to walk down and up many Seattle hillocks and hummocks to go out to breakfast. Some killed the hair of the dog with coffee and mimosa, I just stuck to the Super Mimosa.

I am sitting at the merch table listening to this pretty sweet venue play MGMT.

We're leaving right after the show for a six hour drive to Portland. I am excited to be back in Portland again. The tentative itinerary for me is homelessness in Portland until I feel it is necessary to catch the train back.

- - -

Excitement is brewing in the belly of me: I have officially decided to do the bike ride to Mastatal with these three folks and two more. We plan on leaving December 29th 2008. (And, no, Costa Rica is not an island.)

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

I'm not going to Title this that stupid one-liner T-shirt about Idaho.

I drove through Idaho to go to a show in Bend Oregon. I didn't feel like setting up camp or getting a hotel, so I pulled off into a State Park and parked next to the river. Yes, I slept in my van, down by a river.

I woke up to these guys looking at me. I liked them.



Sunset - Jackie called me while I was listening to God talk radio. Circular reasoning, they have. (Que - This is the picture I told you I wanted to show you)


Woke up when the sun rose and kept on... I hate how I can never capture the moon ...


Lady shadow


Idaho Potato field


Chels, the sky was falling.


Next up - pictures of my Modesto boys: not an Airplane: rocking the NorthWest.

I know the moment I move to Oregon, it will implement taxes again

I don't really want to move to Oregon, but this no tax thing really does excite me.

As do these beautiful pictures...

I have driven over many a mountain pass, and turned lots of astonishing turns. Favorite Mountain Pass of the Summer award goes to McKenzie Pass from Sisters to Eugene in Oregon.



McKenzie/Sanitam Pass


...on my way up


Rock


Willamette Forest


through my windshield... lots of mist


That's my shadow taking a picture of Sea of Lava sign


This is the Sea of LAVA


Thanks to Kansky, I know which way is north :)


People back in the days were so badass...


Puddle of Love, but what puddle isn't a puddle of love?


The top of the foggy pass reminded me of the hyena's Elephant Graveyard in Lion King - spooky.


Green makes me happy!!!


Super Happy!


Lava Rock and Fog


Thanks for tuning in . . . more on Idaho, horses and Turds to come!

Thursday, August 07, 2008

There is Oxygen in the Trees

Back in March when I thought I'd never ever finish writing my thesis on infinity and oulipo, I was distracting myself by speaking to my buddy Turds... and we talked about how to sum up my thesis in one sentence. I found a book in the library called "Difficiles nugæ, or, Observations touching the Torricellian experiment: and the various solutions of the same, especially touching the weight and elasticity of the air.

Touching the weight and elasticity of the air!

What was I getting myself into?

And Turds suggested I just call it Fox in Socks. Much simpler.

Simple.

The idea of simplicity is something that I have been trying to grasp since I began writing poetry (which I haven't done in a while). I want to paint a picture in the mind of the reader through the use of simple language, simple situations. That was my original goal. Then why, when it came down to my last term of graduate school, was I reading books about touching the weight and elasticity of the air?!

Somehow along the way, I got lost in the academic bullshit. I spiraled toward infinity. I was babbling to turds about how I understood it all, finally grasped the greater truth of the infinite, but I had to configure my thoughts and when I was done with that, I would display them accordingly.

Well, besides my thesis, I never configured my thoughts on it. All that resulted from writing that mind-blowing long-ass paper was a major writer's block.

I haven't written a single thing of worth since I graduated from writing school.

. . .

And I think, right now at this very moment, I am figuring out why I have had such a hard time writing. I haven't slowed down.

I just keep going and going. I haven't looked back at old journals, sat down to think about great conversations I've had with friends, sat down to have great conversations with people. I need to slow down. I need to simplify. I want to have that peace of mind I had when I first came to Colorado. I had that "embrace the moment" attitude that allowed me to focus and breathe.

I need to breathe.

road trip song of july

name ten things you wanna do before you die and then go do them.
name ten places you really wanna be before you die and then go to them
name ten books you wanna read before you die and then go read them
name ten songs you wanna hear again before you die, get all of your friends together and scream them

because right now all you have is time time time yeah,
but someday that time will run out.
that's the only thing you can be absolutely certain about.

think of all the things that are wrong with your life and then fix them
think of all the things that you love about your life, be thankful you are blessed with them
think of all the things that hold you back and realize that you don't need them
think of all the mistakes you have made in your life, make sure that you never repeat them

because right now all you have is time time time yeah,
but someday that time will run out.
that's the only thing you can be absolutely certain about.

name ten thousand reasons why you never wanna die, go and tell someone who might've forgotten
try to list the endless reasons why it's good to be alive, and then just smile for awhile about them

soon the sun will rise and another day will come
soon enough the sun will set, another day will be gone

and right now all you have is time time time yeah,
but someday that time will run out.
that's the only thing you can be absolutely certain about.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4yR1vO7iQk&feature=related

it's a must hear.

Shaven (or shaved?) Sheep





for que

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Got Dope-Flavored Milk?



We had to be back in Boulder by 2 pm to meet Paul, our delivery guy from Longmont Dairy.

This is very serious business. It's like receiving very expensive electronics in the mail. You must be home to sign for your milk upon the first delivery. Since I am never home (rarely might be a more appropriate term) we scheduled a time.

Chelsea had taste tested the chocolate milk before we left for Santa Fe. She said it was liquid heroin. Even though she's never done heroin - she said she was pretty sure that was exactly what it was.

We got home exactly at 2 to Paul and the delivery truck placing our new Longmont Dairy cooler on the porch. Shaved ice! Chocolate milk in glass bottles! It's like the Byrne Dairy days all over again! but better, because they deliver!

and the fur that he is wearing is the fur that he prefers...



It's good to be comfortable in your own skin. I think I've reached that level for myself this summer (maybe it's because I am tan?)

On the drive back from Santa Fe, the sun was setting in the west (as it often does) and Chelsea and I would either drive until 1 am to get back to Boulder, or set up camp Somewhere, Colorado.

Ever since I moved to Colorado, I wanted to visit the Sand Dunes. Lo and Behold, the sign appeared on our right. Without even thinking, I turned down the longest straightest levelest road in Colorado. It was freaky - the bug splats on the windshield began to take many forms as the darkness set upon us. I saw things scampering across the road. Lights exploding into the distant mountain.

We parked somewhere near the picnic area that prohibited vehicles from parking overnight. We parked in the back to "hide" in the wide open space of a parking spot. Chelsea was nervous someone would come up to us in the middle of the night, steal us, and our vacant GMC would be found a few days later with no trace of us. That was a comforting note to fall asleep to.

Here's what we woke up to:






My point about being comfortable in my own skin is - I hadn't thought about all the bad things that could have happened to us there. I don't have these worries that Chelsea so often conveys to me from her mind. Not only do I not worry about the worst situation that could happen, I often believe in myself enough to take care of it were it to occur.

This attitude reminds me of when Jackie and I went Duckying down the Dolores River. Chris, our oh-so-friendly friend who offered to let us use his duckies and drive us up the river, asked: "Have you ever done this before?" when we didn't know all the terminology. My only answer was a confident "No, but we can figure it out."

I've always thought that about everything. Give me a puzzle and I'll figure it out. Put me in a labyrinth and I'll figure my way out. Give me unknown situations, strangers and odd-balls, I want to figure them all out.

Different Colored Cows

All over northern New Mexico are patches of cows hanging out. Not just brown. Not just black. Even some mixed-colored cows. It's good to see them all getting along so well.



Monday, August 04, 2008

Earth Ships - Check em out

Down in Taos, where sustainability is reality.

(That sounds like some kind of Vanilla Sky tagline... but it reallyis cool. {just like lucid dreaming is really cool})


Though this trip was not one of my favorites of the summer, we did get to go back through Taos and go on the Earthship tour. I'd like to one day speak with people who have built them and really get inside the heads of those who live in these intelligently designed structures.

I want to build one.


Beautiful Taos.


This is the Visitor's Center for Earthships. Which is a home re-used for informing people about earthships.




All of the water is re-used FOUR times. As it should ...


... built into the ground for heating and cooling purposes ...


The life and color inside is generally very welcoming and health - lots of plants and light.


Until next time . . .

Friday, August 01, 2008

bungled jungle in salida




We met a lot of monsters today. Chelsea licked one. Guess which.







We met Suzanne, the owner of Bungled Jungle. She was playing Darrell Scott's new version of Kris Kristofferson's "Jesus Was a Capricorn" - my recent favorite song. We chatted about Telluride Bluegrass and some musics, like The Grimm Sisters, the Duhks and Uncle Earl. She was very hearty and down to earth.

She had a vacuum lying on the floor, to which she explained: "I figure if I just leave it there, someone'll come along and do it sooner or later."

Any time you are near 285, you must swing in to Salida and check out the monster store. Just 5 minutes of refreshment needed.