a workinprogress

a letter to a friend

2010-12-12T10:00:00.002-05:00

Glanced around the space I was surrounded by and felt a thumping reason to escape it. To my right – interesting men having an absorbing conversation I most probably could have interjected and interacted with. Across the way – a community I’ve felt pulsing that I wanted to ride the night with. Instead, I sneak into the back room and decide that what I need to do is write a letter. To whom? Three people seep into my head and I pull out my phone to write a hurried, modern-age message to them.

Instead, I grad my computer, my fluid pen & my mechanical pencil and I scurry out of my establishment toward home. On my way home, I think about those people that came to mind to write a letter to: Jessica, an ex-friend, my only ex-friend in existence. David, an ex-boyfriend, but really so much more to me and not deserving of such a connotative title; and Jackie, my sister, whom I could write any word to and not only would she accept it, she would admire and respond to it as if it mattered, even if it didn’t. Which, for me, words only matter when there is feeling behind them – and most often, any written letter, however meaningless, will have intention and the warmth of breathe: the thought and life of stories & purpose.

As I am considering who to write this letter to, I realize I am scurrying home, in a horny spasm of hope that writing will pour out of me. And when I do get home, I throw my jacket off, I toss my computer down on the bed and I begin to type into the computer as if it is a piano my fingertips make love to. And as I type, I realize my fluid pen, and my mechanical pencil, are spectators of this moment. Only they are the bystanders of this silent happening where there are words pouring out of me. I am in an empty, dark room in an empty, quiet house that I own. And I am flooded with auspicious surroundings. I am overwhelmed with tidy packages of opulence that I am aware of and suspicious of, yet I have known my whole life that I have been working toward manifesting these things. Life hasn’t been about building wealth or the right connections or the proper career opportunities toward success. I have hard hands with scars and dirty fingernails and the people that matter to me not only don’t mind my imperfections, these are the things that turn them on to friendship and acceptance of me. That I will dig into the dirt and contribute. That I will act awkward and silly and honest and myself. There is no better feeling than to be surrounded by people who know you and love you all the more for knowing you so well at what you are.

As I was coming down the alley toward my house, I saw a coin-shaped glow of moon yellow. I’ve seen a low hanging moon that tricked me into thinking it was a street light before. This vision wasn’t the moon, yet it gave me the same sensation. That I had seen something worth seeing, that could not be described or shared with anyone again, because it was so particular to the moment and sight.

I don’t want to verbally replicate moments or images or emotions for people. In the least, I want to inspire people to go out and get these moments, images and emotions for themselves. This world is brimming with inspiration and positivity; so much that it almost always causes me to lose my breath. I want this growth for humanity – however it may arise, I want internal art for everyone. It is the fuel for each personal soul. It is what allows us to manifest a purposeful future.

Burning Man 2010

2010-02-01T10:44:00.003-05:00

Here's a link to Anton's new grant proposal website for this year's project: full of photos, plans, videos and even a stop animation movie of this year's project! Yay!

It will be called Burning Rectangle. . . no wait, Monolith.

Just kidding - it's called Towering Inferno. 30 feet tall. Enjoy!

And here is Duncan Mackenzie's project: Human Interactive Sundial

What fun welder friends we have. Please come support both of these artists on Memorial Day weekend at a fun Burn party at the Deep Creek Mine in Lime Colorado. We put the fun in fundraiser!!! Ahhhh... punny.

Domesti City!

2010-01-29T20:40:00.002-05:00

My first month at the local coffee shop went like this:

1/ one day of closing training
2/ one day of opening training
3/ open by myself
4/ train the new employee
5/ take over manager position at the roastery
6/ potentially taking it over in May 2010

We have our own Roastery in Lawson Hill, where we roast all the beans for orders all over the country - including but not limited to: Skaneateles, NY, Alaska & most of Colorado. Coffee beans smell like gucky rust that builds up on espresso wands before they are roasted. And they are spanish-moss green. Pew.

To go up to Lawson Hill, I take the Galloping Goose: a free bus San Miguel offers from Telluride to Lawson Hill to Norwood and a loop that goes around the town of Telluride. Free. Now, the Lawson Hill loop only goes early morning and early evening, to get workers and Mountain School kids to and from work/class. So when I go up there, I am stuck up there, unless I make the 45 minute - hour walk back through the twisting Valley Floor. Today, Bill gave me a ride home. He asked if he could take nude photographs of me. No thanks, Bill. He came to the coffee shop later that day to ask again. I thought once was enough?

The reason I am going into so much detail about what a pain in the neck it is to go up the Roastery is as follows: it sure ain't worth it financially. I make approx. 14 dollars minus taxes per Roastery visit. And I have to deal with people like Bill.

But Doug is up there and he's fantastic, a pleasant to talk to wizard Roaster who likes Wilco and thinks Conor Oberst is one of the best lyricist kids we've had in years, which I do, too.

And I learn about coffee. I get to start up this beast of a machine, which eventually creates POUNDS of espresso beans that delight people from here to Upstate New York. I think that's pretty cool.

Closing the coffee shop (which I subsequently have to do when I fill in at the Roastery) isn't much better on making a living. I make about half the tips I make in the morning and I have to haul heavy trash up freaky, unsafe stairs in the dark. AQnd I miss making sandwiches for Brian.

So why am I putting myself through this? Making less than half I would make working for Autumn, nearly double the hours and being stuck in one place?

Well, because I don't feel stuck at all. The gained benefit is living with Brian, living in Telluride, cooking and cleaning in a house instead of a van or a tent, and skiing one of the best mountains I've ever skied nearly every day. Those things plus more trump the "bachelorette" lifestyle of being an ATD rep.

There are also daily events that occur that make me smile wide until my smile muscles start spasming. And not just daily - nearly twice or thrice daily.

I was waiting for the Galloping Goose outside of the Sheridan with a group of shrieking middle schoolers. I considered just walking the 10 minutes home instead of putting myself through a bus ride with banshees. The Lawson Hill bus pulled up, which doesn't stop at Clark's Market (my stop) unless there is someone waiting there for a ride. I wasn't sure if I wanted to risk it.

Then some men from the east coast that were my favorite café customers all day came running up to catch the bus. I told them it was headed out of town and they jollily boasted that the buses take them wherever they want. I decided to hop on with them and get off at Clark's, considering that this was the only other place they possibly could want to get off. The bus driver was a young guy and promptly started blasting Cake's song "Wheels". As we rode the 3 minute drive,

And when the sun is going down I can take a taxi into town
And the waiter at the restaurant sets a table just for one
Wheels keep on spinning round spinning round spinning round
Wheels keep on spinning round spinning round and round

So I had a plane to take me to a place so far away from you
Eventually we began to see that we could be completely free

the song beamed happiness into my ears. Everyone else on the bus dug it too. The east coasters had tipped me a hefty six bucks earlier that day for making them pretty lattés and yummy hot chocolates.

Before Clark's, I fished out 5 dollars and on my way off the bus thanked the driver and smiled, handing him a tip.

Tipping: I think you should tip anyone who does a service for you that you believe they did well. I've always wanted to tip a Goose driver, but no driver has ever given me a reason to do so.

I like living somewhere. I love living in Telluride.

SHUT: mantra of a small mountain town

2010-01-28T15:54:00.022-05:00

This sign is quite a lie

SILVERTON IS CLOSED

When I first visited Crested Butte in 2006, I loved that when stores were finished with business for the day, a simple sign of "Shut" hung in the window. Nearly every business there adopted this method.

Years later, I've driven through Silverton Colorado numerous times, transporting myself between two temporary homes: Telluride and Pagosa Springs. On our last adventure through, I amped Jackie up, telling her about this really cool coffee shop that sold nice winter hats - Mobius. Yet, everytime we've attempted to go, we met a shut door by near minutes. That's hopeful: at least they open at some point. Some of the following pictures show that there are places in Silverton that completely close for the winter. That was one of my favorite parts about taking photographs of Silverton's shut-ed-ness: it wasn't like Crested Butte in it's cutesy "Shut" simplicity. Each business had their own way of conveying the idea that it was not open. Whether it be a sad bear outside, a lack of illumination on an OPEN sign, multiple methods, boarded up or newspaper-ed shop windows or an intimate handwritten note, Silverton certainly has personality - nothing has to actually be open to know this.

CLOSED

where do the rogue snowboarders stay?

really?

there really wasn't one place to eat - we had to wait until Ouray to eat chocolate and scrap cookies at Mouse's... and that crazy 6 espresso shot cayenne drink :-!

the handwritten sign on this one says "Come on in, Warm Inside" directly next to the CLOSED: will return sign that says 12:20. It was 2:30.

Handwritten

I like the personal touch to this one . . . understandable!

Gone for the Winter

They wanted to get their signs up for all the people passing through in the winter

Boarded up

Purple!

A columbine, Colorado's state flower, painted onto their Shut for the Winter board. Nice touch.

I really wanted to check this place out.

Where do the locals get their Swedish fish?!

unlit open sign

Does Kodak even exist anymore?

multiple signage

no sign, simply locked up.

A sled shop that is Closed in (for?) the winter. What?

Just in case a' lootin', gates!

kid hieroglyphic

This store-owner decided to be different than all his fellow business owners in town and let Molly, his 5 year old daughter, design their SHUT sign.

Snowmen are doomed here:

a Promise Post

2010-01-25T14:29:00.002-05:00

Chelsea, this is specifically for you - and me.

Over the next few days, I will post at least once a day on the following topics until all of these topics have been covered:

- Guster's song "Two at a Time"
- Skiing and Snowboarding: There doesn't have to be a "Versus"
- Who Will Hand You Your Future? You or the Moon?
- Always Light a Candle
- Homebody
- The Best 18 Hour Vacation
- Goals of 2010
- Christmas isn't necessarily Gluttonous - This year it was Cheesy
- Becoming a Coffee Connoisseur
- SHUT: mantra of a small mountain town

and possibly more, but those first.

Thank you all.

San Francisco so far . . .

2009-12-01T12:58:00.002-05:00

ORDER YER CORDUROY!

2009-11-10T23:17:00.002-05:00

BROWSE YER TROUSERS, SEND ME YOUR WORN ONES FOR NEW WARMS EM's!

Okay, here's the deal. I don't think I can necessarily say I am "inventing" things, but it sure does motivate me. So here's today's "meghanninvention"-

A reversible-hoodie-scarf made out of a pillow-case, old corduroy pants and some really killer fabric I found at a thrift store in Seattle, just blocks from Sparky's house.

Here are a few pics I took of it tonight - - - so excited to create more!

Sorry I look all model-y. I don't know what face to make.

Telluride: Off-season

2009-11-05T15:44:00.011-05:00

Many a post about this majestic moutain town, but none about living here.

I have been here for over a week, searching for a job, cleaning and organizing space, hiking, cooking and eating home-made dinners, and cruising around on my bike. It sounds appealing and relaxing, yet I am still anxious. I know something will work itself out in terms of keeping an income flow, yet the possibility of not having work or, worse yet, having a low paying job that I hate, distresses me. I now know how people feel when they are worried about giving up their salaried jobs with health insurance to pursue something more meaningful or fulfilling.

The major thing that has been missing in my life due to my extensive traveling is consistency: routine work-outs, familiar territory, friends, sleeping in the same bed every night, knowing where my next meal will be cooked. I've always known myself to be a bit sporadic and easily adaptable to new situations. Well, since I've mastered that which rats are known to excel at, I think it's about time I give stability a try - make it work for me. Take the mundane out of routine.

After a very erratic trip with Andy across the United States and back, I've come to settle into Telluride quite comfortably.

Autumn's lemon yellow leaves have since fallen to the ground, stomped on by hikers on the trails to a burgundy-dirt colored brown. And while I don't mind the loss of fall's palette, it sure does remind me how quickly time passes. Hit by an early storm, the canyon walls are partially blanketed in snow, showing the sun's favorite faces to rest on by the lack of skiable terrain. Bear Creek is on the south-side of town, so the first half of the hike is pressed snow, in a zig-zagging track of the first voyager's choice trail. This chute of pre-pressed path is only about a foot and a half wide, so it's difficult to hike side-by-side unless you don't mind romping around the saturated snow-cone slush and making your own path. I didn't mind: my terrain trail runners have been missing for about a month now with all the relocating going on and all I have to wear are my water-proof J-41's, which claim to provide "ample traction" yet I have a gash in my hand from sliding down the Jud Wiebe that would beg to differ.

The Jud Wiebe: a trail on the north-side of town that goes "upsie-kins" as Brian likes to put it as he hears me sucking wind behind him. It's a shorter hike, but sunnier for longer, so when we lose track of the day and suddenly it's 3:00 p.m., we can still extend our hike-every-day streak.

Brian chucking Aspen leaves at me

o 0 o O 0 o hello moon o 0 o O 0 o

The hikes have not only provided me with a sanctuary escape, but Brian as well. The last few days of October were anticipatory days before the Town Council election. Thankfully, all the worries were in vain, as Brian was elected to Town Council with three other great individuals: Chris Myers, "Glider Bob" Saunders and Anne Brady.

orange foliage kinda rhymes?

Pretty foliage

Toldja the skies were cartoon-blue here . . .

Perfect spot for the solar panels!

From the Gondola. . .

Descending Down . . .

... onto a pretty pretty mountain town

Bear Creek-ish

Gaspin' at the Aspens!

What a great town to be involved in. . . so much to come.

gateway, norwood, fruita, and on

2009-10-14T18:35:00.005-04:00

Westy! We tried to rename the Westy Grendle, after the gigantic, sleek gray dog we met at Hardly Strictly, but Grendle sounds a bit too much like . . .

don't ignorwood.

elephant conductors are always made of metal scrap.

look at them legs . . .

there i am!

He rides his bike with no handlebars. Safety Third!

Eyes so on the road, they reflect it.

PIA suggested this pretty cerulean color for Brian in Winnemuck, Nevada Walmart Pedicurist Specialist Anonymous Hippopotamus.

So much yellow in the fruitbasket!

Fun with props at a warehouse in San Francisco.

2009-10-14T18:24:00.005-04:00

I've been sitting in this coffee shop called Rachael's Cafe in Bloomington, Indiana for over 6 hours. "SIX HOURS!!!?" you say? Yep. Other than the obvious link-hopping that occurs when a twenty-something like me has been internet-starved for a few weeks, I also managed to set up a Fashion Show here in Bloomington, talk to Bad Evan for at least an hour about politics, religion, marketing and what it's like to grow up Irish Catholic, join in on a jam session with Travis, Whitney, Nathaniel and Andy, and finally make an addition to the yelp.com realm of rating favorite places in the towns I've visited.

Six hours and I can't get myself out of this place. Six hours and my blog hasn't yet been updated with photographs and tales of my travels in the past few weeks, months, year.

Andy made a joke that he hasn't blogged and won't blog on this trip because I am the only one who reads it anyway. I thought he was probably pretty accurate about my own position for tale-telling and photograph sharing. But my father wrote me an email today about a blog post that I put up a few weeks ago and I was reaffirmed that the people I love are still actually paying attention, even if only in intervals.

* * *

The next few posts are dedicated to the last trip I took to San Francisco with Brian and this current road trip I am on with Andy to Houston, Arkansas, St Louis, Bloomington, Indiana and on . . .

Miss you all!!!

How a Hummer offsets its emissions...

2009-10-09T15:07:00.000-04:00

I went to Yellowstone once.

2009-09-23T14:21:00.006-04:00

Keeping up with uploading photos, adding them here and writing about them is not the most difficult task, but I sure do seem to make it appear that way with how not-often I update this here webpage.

I went on a northern tour in August, from Jackson Hole to Targhee back to Jackson Hole up to Yellowstone over to Cody up to Billings Montana, then west to Bozeman and Missoula and finally Seattle. That was my two weeks prior to Burning Man, just to place some dates around when all this occurred.

I had only one day to spend in Yellowstone, so I went hiking around Old Faithful, where I knew all the pretty hot pool and geysers hang out. It was as beautiful as I thought it would be. Though it seems silly to do Yellowstone in one day, it was worth driving through it and experiencing the little niche I did get to experience. Next time I try and tackle Yellowstone, I'll make sure to set aside at least a week to do a backpack/camping trip and some water adventures.

This trip was solo, except for my perma-road buddies dragosaur and lillee:

tiny pineapple cone

buoys wanting to be mountains

tetons from above jackson lake

wizard trunk

lil lee pads

google-earthy looking

solitude geyser

gooey death pond

cool hot pond.

the bubbles the bubbles the bubbles

blue cardinal

geyser shooting up!

i like cloud reflections

Next is Estes Park for the beginning of fall leaves shifting colors, yogis slack-lining and vegan food galore!

PULL uP iF i PuLL UP

2009-09-04T14:24:00.011-04:00

One would think since I am in Seattle, there should be no excuse to not blog - internet cafes grow from the cracks in the streets around here. Well, I have happily coved myself up with Sea-town buddies Sparky & Nate in their South Seattle abode. No internet, no nearby cafes and certainly no cracks in the streets. Not.

The things they DO have make up for anything that might be missing in their neighborhood: an art studio in the basement, inspiration flowing from the pores of their skin and a collective conscious for cooking, merrymaking and creating.

Fellow couchsurfer Anne and I branched out this morning to Pioneer Square where we found a great coffee shop called Zeitgeist. They sell 8 oz. to-go mugs for people like Brian who hate when baristas overfill Americanos with hot water! They also have vaulted ceilings, plug-ins, gigantic windows for people watching and free free internet connection. Zeitgeist, you win.

I've been dying to tell my story of Burning Man since I left Missoula all the way until I flew back to Seattle. The following pictures are really only a glimpse into the experience, as I didn't carrying around my camera but twice the entire time. And even the two moments I did let my camera tag along, it mostly sat in Brian's giant orange pockets, longing to capture images for me.

I'm sure everybody has had this dilemma before - the tilting feeling of wanting to capture moments with their devices against the pure desire to simply experience what is going on around you. The latter won, for the most part, in my technological struggle.

Thankfully, though, I felt the compulsion to pull out the ole' Powershot during one of the most breathtaking sunrises I've ever been apart of and two of our friends romped around with their professional cameras every day and night (except when they were passed out on cots.)

Instead of writing a play-by-play of the three days I was blessed to spend at Burning Man this year, I will blot words and phrases underneath the photographs I took. I will also highly encourage any of my artistic friends to muster up an art project and go experience this beautiful week in the desert for yourself. You will not regret an ounce of it.

- - taken on the way out of BM . . . Tigger encouraged the idea - -

The. Hardware. Store!

we have feet and legs to get us there.

we erupted.

wakey wakerson!

a borrowed bicycle for morning expeditions

Satan, oscillate my metallic sonatas!

In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni.

Climb up to the crows nest and wave in the wind over fire & lights for a fresh perspective every few nights . . .

Our home.

Scooch into the Cushman

Awaiting the arrival of rays and snowflakes.

six o'clock

5 Hours in a Blue Teardrop . . . the meeting spot for aunties and Jeeveses

sad palindrome.

The Man.

Always bring your fuzzy green blanket jacket.

Dumb mud. (Not.) I heart playadust.

energy transfer.

the Cushman!

So many dynamos!

Business sucks, but it's picking up!

Buddha dude on our job box.

Contemplating Rug Burn.

let's have bizarre celebrations, let's forget to forget to forget well.

homeward free.

blue balloons floating up with the sun

some more...

and some more...

ups!

Until we meet again.

Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?

Monkey Jogs!

2009-08-30T00:54:00.005-04:00

This is my first attempt at an apron. I didn't use a ruler, a cutting board or any prior knowledge of how to sew what so ever (besides 7th grade home ec, where Jen and I built a "house" that we could skip classes and play fort in . . . )

I got these fabrics from three different places: the navy angels hugging (the body), the pin stripe faded jade (the bottom) and the weird pocket flannel are all from a salvation army in Livingston, Montana. The pretty lace for the neck & frill on the pocket and the rust colored zipper are from Mark in Butte, Montana, who let me take as much stuff as I could fit in a bag (or two? plus shoes that turn into ROLLERSKATES!) for ONE DOLLAR. The tie is from Goodwill Thrift in MisSOULa, Montana. Pretty rad mix of things, if you ask me.

The scissors used are old sorta' rusty shears - they reminded me of the scissors my mom used to use, but with a griddle feel to 'em. Bob sold me the sewing machine. I almost got a sewing machine from a disgruntled ex-wife who wanted to give me her ex-mother-in-law's sweet machine for $35 so she could buy her son Benjamin popsicles since he just got his tonsils out. When I went to meet her, I bought him a box of popsicles just because I was so thankful. She bailed on me, so alls I got was a box of popsicles... and a brand NEW machine named Audrey!

Anyone wanna buy an apron? I am selling them for 55 bucks a pop! Call now with your color choice and any and all suggestions on how to sew.

Wheel of Thwarted Ambition

2009-08-17T13:20:00.007-04:00

People approach us as we are unloading the formidable hunk of metal from Chip's crane: "What is this for? What's going to happen?"

It's still daylight. Anton Viditz-Ward, a local Telluride welder and friend, has built spinning metal carriages of fire for four years now. This particular wheel was seen by fellow Burners on the 2008 playa. They decided to rent the wheel for the rehearsal dinner for their wedding. Descending from Mountain Village on the Gondola, the wedding party would be surprised to see a sparking ring of fire.

The newlyweds-to-be

Due to the last minute rental of the Wheel of Thwarted Ambition, Anton called upon his crew of friends, or Team Fuck Yeah, to get things spinning.

Most of the crew suited up in orange jumpsuits, goggles and helmets; the crowd that the event inevitably drew was fully aware of who was in charge:

Bri and I got to turn the crank shaft first:

This year, Anton has built a double wheel that spins in opposite directions and the theme for our Burning Man camp is Palindromes. Our motto is one of the oldest palindromes known, a latin phrase that was used to describe the behavior of moths: In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni. It translates to “we go wandering at night and are consumed by fire." Seems pretty appropriate . . .

If anyone wants a closer look at any of Anton's metal projects, come to the next mine party! David Byrne, Summer 2012!

Wheelside

Sparking Stars

Photos courtesy of Merrick Chase - - - check him out!

LOOK SEE

2009-08-12T20:45:00.000-04:00

I took a few photos on that dreaded I-80 drive from Jackson WY to Boulder CO. About all Eastern Wyoming has to offer are snippets of giggles from the odd photographs it provides.

Moabyness

2009-08-06T15:56:00.007-04:00

I'm sitting at Arches Book Store in Moab, Utah - one of my favorite bookstores in the nation... second to Powell's in Portland, OR.

Someone left me two quarters. A 1912 New Mexico Land of Enchantment and 1896 Utah Crossroads of the West.

I agree that Utah is the Crossroads of the West, mostly because of the drive I just made. From Telluride, 145 West to 90 West takes you through Norwood, Naturita, Bedrock and Paradox, Colorado. Towering red cliffs contrasted with jade pines and the dusty yellow valley floor . . . it's hard to keep your eye out for the free ranch cows wandering, traversing the roads with inattentive eyes.

cows on the road

paradox valley

paradox valley aussi

pretty rocks

Just as I was winding up toward the margin of my favorite state in the US, I thought about why I love Colorado so much.

I've been spending so much time in southwest Colorado lately - Telluride to be exact. This week alone, I hiked twice, climbed a VIA ferrata route, went to an EMS gathering with free Mojitos and sushi, played frisbee golf, drank a shot of whiskey in the middle of main street in the middle of the day, watched a play about squids, octopus and schools of fish, get 160 million in Harley Pinball, finished my paperwork ( : o ! ) and soaked naked in a hot tub at a mansion in the mountains. Hmmm . . . I also managed to bang my camera up against the rock to somewhat screw it up - so I'll have to get a new lens before I continue photographing things.

Here's some:

MY NEW BIKE!

kona!

FROM RIDGEWAY TO TELLURIDE - MOON AND THE MOUNTAINS

the land Ralph Lauren owns

VIA FERRATA PHOTOS!

us at the top... timer-shot

so scary!

Brian thru my broken lens

BRAINARD LAKE & the NEW WESTY!

the westy's first vista after camping at brainard lake...

westy! (soon to be named... when appropriate)

Off to Bozeman, Montana for the Sweetpea Art Festival ! ! ! I've never been to Montana - I hope to see lots of horses and rivers.

We pine for higher ceilings...

2009-07-08T14:24:00.003-04:00

The Submarines- You, Me, and Bourgeoisie
Video sent by NettwerkMusic

After California, I finagled my way back to Telluride about 8 hours ahead of schedule. My flights were set to leave at 2:30 PM and then 9:30 PM from Denver to Durango, which wouldn't put me into the majestic canyon until about midnight. I wasn't having that. I arrived at the San Francisco airport at 4:45 am to attempt stand-by for the 6:00 am flight. The line for luggage was horrendous and it sounded to me that EVERYBODY around me wanted to get to Denver and be on that exact flight. I was patient and kind with all the attendants and the guy behind the counter looked like he appreciated it. He bumped me to the top of the list, which was about 4th out of 26 people.

I watched my name slip down the list to 19th, as people were added. I didn't understand. I went to the counter and tried my patience and politeness trick again. This lady was not having it. She told me "yes, your name would move down as people were added." I struggled to not say anything back and sat back down. Watching the screen, I saw that United Plus members had more umph on the scale, so I waiting until angry lady was busy and asked the other woman if being a mileage plus member would bump me up on the list. She said "why yes it does." So I gave her my membership number and vavoom! I was back up at number 6 on the stand-by list. Now, this didn't mean anything, really . . . I had to wish that 6 people slept in and couldn't get through the baggage madness in time to get on their Denver flight. Everybody boarded the plane and the crowd had emptied out around me. It wasn't looking so hot. Angry lady called my name and as I walked up to her, she said "you're very lucky" as if she had wished I missed the plane.

If I hadn't gotten on this plane, I would have missed the connecting flight to Durango and still would have arrived in Telluride around midnight, and ALSO spent the entire day in airports. Yeah for that not happening.

Jackie was in Telluride waiting patiently with our friend from high school Jay and his pup Daizy. We rolled in around 4 pm, just in time to begin setting up tents and claim a sweet vendor camping sitche for Kim's van. We parked it nose in on this camper, nestled amongst the bushes and so very close to the watering spigot. We met the camper men. Their names were Brian Merrick and Bart. Brian owns the camper, but also lives in Telluride, so they set it up more for a party zone at the venue. All these guys had backstage passes even though they barely had to lift a finger's work during the festival. Fun!

Jackie and I didn't get many pictures . . . so sad. But we did see David Byrne in the most exciting mind-space and we met Conor Oberst. Other than that, the entire event was a fantastically tragic time to say goodbye to. You ride the high of these amazing festivals and people speak of the withdrawal they go through after it's all over. I like the light these moments shed on my perspective. I am still riding that high - perhaps it is because I am still in Telluride and still hanging out with the people I was so fortunate to meet that weekend.

love can free us from all excess - from our deepest debts - 'cause when our hearts are full we need much less

Beirut - 'Nantes'

2009-07-08T01:06:00.004-04:00

Beirut - 'Nantes'
Video sent by era_ant

from Blogotheque

I am a little embarrassed that June was a month unwritten. Yet, as Nickel Creek says "others have excuses, I have my reasons why."

June, like the many months that preceded it and haven't gained recognition here in my virtual world, was plump with fun and loveliness. It began where my travels and adventures began last summer: Telluride Jazz Festival. A fellow friend, Greg, flew into Denver to accompany me on the drive with a few golden nugget pit stops along the way: Valley View Hots Springs, The Great Sand Dunes and then Telluride, Colorado. The weather called for rain rain and a little bit more of some more rain, but we actually lucked out - it just sprinkled a bit at the hot springs (which is my favorite hotspringweather) and cleared up for us to hike a 75 degree day at the dunes. We even got about 60% clarity in Telluride . . . freeeeezing nights.

This is greg and I. On the side of the road somewhere near Villa Grove. We had fun.

Greg looking up at the Dune we're going to climb.

I didn't even try to photo-capture the beauty of the Dunes... it's a visual memory that sits in my head. Go see it yourself . . . seriously, go.

... when the Springtime night chill sets in on Telluride, it's best to find someone who pays heating bills to shack up with. We found the Nugget Theatre to watch Star Trek at. It was awesome and warm.

This little Telluride girl just graduated from kindergarten and this was her graduation balloon that she held so high and proud.

A few free box friends that we found . . . my panda ORI was subsequently stolen in Santa Rosa by a little boy who didn't realize ORI was my watch-panda. I hope he's enjoying him. I didn't even have time to become attached to him. . .

While I was in Telluride, Autumn called with a request that I fly out to California to fill in for the Health and Harmony Festival. I have become a bit sick of flying, but yes is a game I like to participate in. So off to Santa Rosa for the second weekend in June!

The line up for the festival was unbelievable. Act after act, I was loving California and all the endorphins it was bringing to my ears and head. One way to put it... you couldn't tear the smile off my face. I had two lovely neighbors, Robert and Jodi, and a great view of the stage from my booth. Michael Franti, Cake, The Duhks, India Arie, Balkan Beat Box, Matisyahu, Animal Liberation Orchestra... mmmm... and people all around glad to be alive and dancing.

My neighbor Jodi! Check her out - she makes sweet stuff!!!

i hoop.

I was feeling the love . . .

- - and Daniel Pinchbeck spoke in the dome behind my booth, so I got to steal away for half an hour and watch him speak about the book greg and I are reading: 2012. This guy and many of the people seated in the dome have lots of information that is really just starting to seep into our consciousness. I was really glad to be a part of it.

Since the first 10 minutes was basically a reiteration of the content I had already been reading in his book, I let myself get distracted by this mini-dagny that was hanging out with a guy I had met earlier. Cute cute.

... after H & H, I came back to Telluride and that is where I am now. I will fill in the blanks in the morning, as I am too tired to do anything else worthwhile on this post.

See you tomorrow! Nantes :)

Do sensors censor us or just sense when we're evading stop signals?

2009-05-12T08:06:00.001-04:00

I ask where he grew up. He says California. He says he'll leave as soon as he gets the chance. He looks about 19 years old. Maybe 20. Could be 17. When I ask where, he says anywhere that is not the United States. I ask what is wrong with the United States. He says there are too many laws, too much censorship. I ask him where else he has been, thinking he will justify his answer with his experience with foreign lands being less oppressive. He says Florida, Hawaii (twice), Cancun and... Mexico. He is answering with candid seriousness. I tell him that I travel a lot and there are parts of the United States that aren't so bad. I ask him what kind of laws are oppressive. He says California has cameras everywhere and that they take your picture when you run a red light. He says he has a device on his license plate that blurs the picture. He proceeds to explain that the guys who put up those cameras aren't even cops, that they put them there and then sit around all day waiting, watching. He clarifies that as soon as you run that red light, they snap a picture of you. My mind begins to drift. I decide that if this really were the case, if the cameras weren't just sensor-driven, these guys might be called something like Sensor-Breaker Detectors. Or SBD's for short. Then guys like the kid who's driving me to the airport in his blurry jeep would nickname them Son of a Bitch Dudes who watch over and me and make sure I don't run red lights. I begin to wonder if Blurry Jeep kid has sensors mixed up with censors. I wonder if the SBD's internally censure us after a while for our lack of respect for others' safety.

I ask him how he is censored. He says there are too many ways to explain. I ask for one. He thinks a minute and then admits that he cannot think of one at the moment. I change the subject because I begin to feel as if I am accusing him of something, even though I was really just curious where he grew up. I say I have never been this early to the airport. He asks what I am going to do with 4 hours. I begin to list things... read, write, stare into no where. I tell him I have a hard time getting bored, so I don't mind the waiting. He asks what I like to read. I tell him short stories, funny ones. I ask him what kind of books he likes to read. He says he's never finished a book. He says he never really got into it because in school, his teachers would always make him read things he didn't want to read. I tell him when I am an English teacher, I won't force kids to read things they won't like. He says that'd be cool.

When we get to the airport, he asks me what airline I am flying on. Of course, I don't know, because sometimes I am not completely primed with my travel information, so I pull out my laptop. Delta. I go up to the Delta counter and they are looking at me like a disoriented owl. They ask me what I want. I think to myself, isn't it pretty obvious? I tell them I'd like to check in. They tell me there are no more flights tonight. It hits me that maybe I am not flying out of Oakland. There are about eighty airports in the vicinity of San Francisco. I take out my laptop again and right above Delta, it tells me SFO. I guess it was a good thing I left 5 hours early.

Along my BART ride, I think about my ride to the airport. I wonder if this kid will ever give America a chance. I wonder if he'll ever feel the need to read a book, all the way through. I wonder if I judged him for the things he said, but realize I didn't really. I liked him. I liked how he had a tenacity, a passion in life, even if it was against something. I think having passion, even if misdirected, is better than being apathetic. I wonder at what moment in his life will that passion be challenged and he'll have to decide to deviate or alleviate it. I hope he just redirects it and doesn't let it dwindle into indifference. This may sound a bit extreme, but I wonder if he had only had a better english teacher . . .

What do you do when you pull the X Q Z from the Scrabble bag?

2009-05-08T17:24:00.004-04:00

Plans shift. It's been said to "Expect the Unexpected." To me, this is an apparent paradox, because if you expect the unexpected, then isn't it then expected? Well, what I gather from such a proverb is this advice: be open to shifts. Anyone who knows me knows my middle name should be shift. I PUT ON THE TEMPORARY CAPS LOCK EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE. and sometimes i never touch it. I live for the shift. I live in shift. But I'm not shifty - I am candid and frank. Just call me Candid Frank. Or I guess I'd be Candid Shift Frank, since Shift is my middle name.

... I digress - I was on my way to Chico, CA on Thursday to do some hiking, reading, writing, relaxing and catching up with my friend Malia. On my way, I gave her a call only to find she was in Sacramento with her friend from high school, Adelle. My route took me right through Sac, so I decided to take a pit stop. We ended up chatting on the back porch with wine and sunshine, going out for delicious deep dish pizza and playing a tenacious game of Scrabble before sleeps. Chico got put on hold.

I am sure anyone who finds interest in sitting around a square board made out of tan, salmon pink, baby blue and (the ultimate) red squares, placing a mixture of their 7 wooden squares in vertical or horizontal patterns, so as to maximize points, knows the importance of X Q & Z.

During this Sacramento game of Scrabble, I happened to pull all three of these letters throughout the game - two in the first scoop! And like any rusty scrabbler who hasn't practiced, played or read the dictionary lately, I whined and moaned that I wasn't getting the proper proportion of vowels to consonants. About 3/4's of the way through the game, I inquired about the score. Bookkeeper Malia informed me that I was in the lead- a hefty dozen points ahead of her (she grew up in Indiana... she's goood.) After the game was over, and I won, I thought about what it means to pull those three valuable yet vexatious letters.

It's really about luck of the draw in getting those letters. But I've seen people MacGyver their way to number one out of the scrabble pack with slim pickins of one-point letters (such persons go by the pseudonyms of 'Mom' and 'Maloeuia'). Life really is about taking what you are given and making the best out of it. When you reach into that Stygian Scrabble bag, you have no way of knowing what to expect. You, therefore, can truly expect the unexpected.

Although I did come out on top with the high-dollar letters I was given, it's not easy to place a Q without having a U.

Which reminds me of a poem I once read in a cartoon strip when I was little. I think it may be the only poem I've ever memorized. The cartoon was a little ant reading a poem about his favorite letter to a classroom full of other ants, who probably had other favorite letters. For instance, I found out last week that Rachel and I share the same favorite letter: g.

"If I could be a letter,
I would be a Q -
as letters go
it don't seem Q's
have all that much to do
Mostly they get used in words
for doctors and for ducks
(which may well be the only time
that Q's get any yucks.)

Q's are never all alone in anything they do
'cause everything you find a Q
it's followed by a U.

Privacy is not a thing
I've ever been too keen on.
I'd rather know
when I feel low
that I got U to lean on."

I don't know who wrote this brilliant masterpiece of a poem, but he obviously touched me. I'm in a lot of debt because of that ant's poem.

Anyway, do the best you can with whatever you grab outta' the Scrabble bag of life. Quit complaining about your vowel ratio.

Sidenote: all my hopes dreams and aspirations of my purpose in the Scrabble world were shattered that night when Adelle reminded me that I could never get a SCRABBLE with the word S-E-Q-U-O-I-A (7 letters and uses only ALL the vowels and an 'S'... only word lovers will really get why this would be so exciting for me) because Sequoia is a proper noun. No proper nouns allowed in Scrabble. How discriminatory. I am going to invent my own Scrabble game called Babble. The poets' version of Scrabble, where everything is allowed. All languages, slangs, nouns and names allowed. And maybe I won't use squares - I'll use triangles or something . . .

(One may notice how wonderfully fluid and easy to follow my brain has become since I stopped writing college essays. Right.)

Goodnight Oakland!

inter-coastal

2009-05-07T04:34:00.003-04:00

Last week, while Rachel and I were wandering around San Francisco, Autumn called me to talk about the next leg of my trip. She gave me a few options: bum around the west coast for a week, then up to Portland. Or fly to NYC for the Yoga Journal Conference, then back to Portland and be all 'inter-coastal' about it.

When weighing these decisions in my head, I think of two things: What will be best for ATD? and How will it benefit me? Generally, whenever I am given these choices or asked if I can be here there then somewhere else, I just abide. The dude abides.

And I'd like to say it's because I am easy going or make the best of all situations ... while it may be a bit of these two, I think, in all honesty, it is more about my curiosity. I make the decision that will provide more adventure, more dislocation, more uncertainty. My curiosity overrides my apprehension like an overweight bully on the elementary school see-saw. As much as my mind wants to catch up with itself from time to time, it still wants to be stimulated and overwhelmed with the unfamiliar and what beauty that the not-yet-revealed has to unravel. Like Proust decided to do with Remembrance of Things Past, live first, then write. The writer is the arrangeur, but first, the manger, french for arrange and to eat, respectively. We arrange matters after we feed off of the world.

. . .

As I said, I do consider the company I work for first, because they are the wonderful women that provide me with the opportunity to travel around with beautiful flowing clothes and help women embrace loving the skin they live in. That's how I see what I do - and I am thankful every day that I am afforded the opportunity.

without the rules

2009-05-07T01:44:00.013-04:00

Besides Arcata/Eureka's kick-ass radio station KHUM 'radio without the rules', (which made me want to stay at Patrick's Point in Trinidad, just so we could listen) Humboldt County has too much to offer for a mere 3 day trip.

Gigantic conifers with more tourist attractions than Disney World. Brown bears that amble down the road in front of my clearly audible, crappy rental car. Snail colonies. Lost rocks. Big Rivers. The Immense Pacific Ocean. Onomatopoetic waves. Sprawling, scrawling succulent communities. Banananut slug climbers. Rainforest hike/slides. Grey granular sand. Ampersand-shaped petrified wood. Wholly evil petrified wood. Dismantled skeleton petrified wood. Bullfrogs behind the beach campfire. And of course... buddies to hang in the rain with.

Rachel, Rachel and Luke decided about as last minute as possible that weather should never impede on a trip. The plan began as a shifty "Meet ya' in NorCal around Sunday night." Well, give three Alaksans a '70 VW van, shoddy directions and a negligible map of Portland, OR and they will easily double their travel time. They will also own the most Zach Morris, pre-historic of cellular technology.

But give a road warrior another night and morning alone and she'll easily meet a bear, see a few slugs, visit a hidden beach, hike for four hours in the Redwoods, drive under a tree and finally run across Marvin (said '70 VW bus above) in a Diner parking lot in Klamath California.

It was my first time meeting Rachel's friends Luke and Rachel. One of the first things Luke said out loud near me was something like "I think it is impossible to get bored." I wanted to walk up to his face and exclaim "Finally! Someone who thinks straight!" Here's a photo-slideshow of how Springtime weather in a Rain Forest doesn't have to ruin anyone's fun

fat cat is home

2009-04-15T20:05:00.003-04:00

When you're a kid, you get presents on your birthday. My brother told me yesterday that later in life, all you get on your birthday is older.

I got friends who came out to my favorite place in the city, bought me PBRs, wrote collaborative poetry and laughed a lot. I got way more than just older.

A Coney Island for our Time

2009-02-11T18:40:00.003-05:00

Cicero said it best:
The less said,
the less missed by
The Unlistener.

It's when the investigation thickens
that the City
truly blooms
into a moon puzzle
meant to be layered like
new tags on the license plate
of someone who will
never leave
their state.

The gift of a great painter
is the capacity
to cover up the underlayers
yet keep
topographical presence.

\

In the Wagon Winter of
Nathaneal West - locusts
infest like lonely hearts
inundate the Tundra.

Humanity shelters us
like a Lime Twig,
or a ladder shadow.

We nibble on this comfort
for it is the embers left
to us
from the Wild Fury
that raged its course weeks before.

Hell is a reflection of
The Very Thing that Happens
when wet cement and laziness mix.

We change our tags but
the plate is the same.

"I'd like to hang... owls. I'd like to hang wooden owls on the walls."

2009-02-10T13:51:00.002-05:00

"i see geese going backwards and i feel so bad"

2009-02-09T16:46:00.002-05:00

it's windy in boulder today. real windy.

i rode my bike downtown and felt like i got put on pause when a gust came toward me and transfixed me still.

yet, i need to bike while i am here. i associate it with the freedom i feel by being afforded the circumstance to have lived in boulder. in colorado. i say have lived because i am transitioning into move-mode.

i just relocated the rest of my stuff into a shared storage unit. i am officially homeless as of february 20th. but i do have a van, so maybe it's not that official. it depends on your definition of "home."

and i mean it when i say to people that i am low maintenance. i have less than a rocket box full of stuff to travel with.

plus, i'll be in the south until its about summertime, so i won't need much.

excited to be on the road.

also to come, i am starting a low-key business on the side to sell personal artsy postcards to locally owned General Stores, gas stations and markets across our America. yay!

Miles for Mastatal

2009-01-06T22:50:00.002-05:00

Though half of my audience is gone to partake on this dear journey, I still encourage the other half to devotedly follow and ingest the experiences of my dear friends as they travel through Mexico and Central America toward their final destination: Rancho Mastatal in Costa Rica. The guys taking this journey for a more ever-present cause than we comfy American's would like to admit (caring about and contributing to cultures other than our own) are intelligent in their expressions, kind in their heartfelt intentions and brave in the adventure they have chosen to undertake.

Please enjoy their stories, photographs, mind-wanderings and feats here at their hopefully often updated blog.

And if you believe in what they are doing, don't hesitate to support their cause.

tupperware cupboard

2009-01-06T16:32:00.004-05:00

Household dinners are common where I live. I've always felt "at home" in Boulder, yet this added touch of community and familial sharing makes my house feel even more of a home.

I often confuse the two: home and home. I speak of my residence in Colorado as home, and I speak of my parents house in Liverpool, New York as home. "Back home, we sit on the porch and whistle tunes to the runners and cyclists passing by." "I went home for the holidays and I always get put next to babies on planes." I find no need to distinguish between the two.

Pete's girlfriend, Cat, lives in Tucson, Arizona. She splits time between Tucson and Boulder for the sake of love (seems these distance romances are happening everywhere.) She cooked us up a tasty vegetarian stew the other night and the aroma of home-cookin' spilled into every open cabinet, room and nostril in the house. After we all ate our share, we collectively cleaned and shared dish-washing duties (yep, we're old school - no dishwasher at 4th street.)

Cat's friend Theresa commented on our lack of organization of our tupperware. Lack is a soft word to be used for the scale of organization of this cupboard: it's downright chaos. I believe this to be equivalent to the person who appears to be clean, tidy and organized when in reality the underside of their bed is a more appropriate portrait.

My friend George just wrote up a post about this characteristic that I think is more common than we like to let ourselves believe; we don't notice how prevalent this paradoxical trait is because it is within our mental capacity to lie to ourselves. We tell ourselves we are organized because we have systems in place. We tell ourselves we are ready at any moment to conquer the world because we have worked so hard on our systems.

I don't know that we need to stop lying to ourselves about our level of organization. I don't know that we need to rearrange, catalogue, or regulate the tumultuous tupperware cupboard. I believe a healthy dose of chaos can bring a glimmer of humanity and humor to a household.

My mom would disagree, and all of my other truly OCD friends would laugh, saying that I am applying my free-spirit to the order of the kitchen, which is silly.

However, we spoke about that unruly cabinet and the impossibility of finding matching tops for containers for quite a while. And we've spoken about it before in the two and a half years I have lived at fourth street. To come home to a categorized tupperware cupboard would make it much harder to continue to use the word "home" for both NY and CO without clarifying which "home" I am speaking about.

I enjoy the healthy dose of chaos my Colorado life provides me.

a year in review...

2009-01-06T00:10:00.002-05:00

Ever since I was in 4th grade and realized that soon I'd be too old to have recess, I've realized that every year I live, I must make it better than the last.

Because I burned this whimsical, innocent, simple ideal into my mindset, I have become shaped by it. I once had a boyfriend, who, after we broke up, made fun of me to all his friends saying "she always has to make everything the best, the coolest, the weirdest." He made fun of my extreme optimism toward the world and attitude that it was actually POSSIBLE. That we could actually LIVE our most absurd dreams and ideas.

Well . . . though I cannot realistically decide whether or not my life has consistently seen better days since I made this pact with myself, I do believe life has consistently felt enjoyably crazy and hectic. And maybe that's what I've needed at this moment in my life: absurd chaos and frivolous, spontaneous pursuits.

It started in January when Heidi was moving out of our wonderful house. I was sad. Heidi and Matt had become a sort of roommate family, and now I had to say goodbye to them. Rachel moved in - an optimistic progressive thinker from Alaska, who sought out Boulder to climb, sponge in more about nutrition and massage and expand her horizons. She liked to play and laugh and do art. I couldn't have found a better person to surround myself with at the moment.

Then in February Andy came to visit. He showed up with perfect timing - right after Valentine's Day had ended and my work (a florist) had settled down from two weeks of madness. He brought more laughter, more insight and more music into my life. He fit right into my lifestyle of Boulder, and he knew it. We enjoyed sharing the mountains, the attitude, the openness and the artistry that Boulder so graciously volunteers time and time again. He inspired me in only the way he can and drove me to delve into my thesis with more passion and commitment than I thought possible in my reluctant, scattered mind.

In March, I started another venture: hoopdance. While writing my thesis and working as a florist, I practiced dancing and swirling and really enjoyed myself. My boss and I went to L.A. and became certified hoop instructors through Hoopnotica - the most advanced company in hoopdance in the world. I was proud of my odd, yet totally freeing achievement.

In April, I actually focused in my life. I think it might well be the longest I've focused in one amount of time. I finished my thesis and celebrated with my friends in the middle of the month for my birthday. I had friends from every speck of my life in Boulder at that party at the Fox Theatre, and I danced. I danced practically all night long. And I smiled. That's not too far off my personality.

In May I began my new job with Autumn Teneyl Designs. I started the month off by traveling Colorado, New York, Pittsburgh... then wrapped it up with the first diet I have ever successfully accomplished. My roommates and I did a two week detox that actually worked and made me feel good. It was a good way to start off a summer of traveling and "modeling".

I started off June in Telluride, then Salida, then Telluride again and then Taos, New Mexico. The traveling aspect was new to me. The meeting new people every weekend was new to me. The freedom and solitude of traveling alone was all new to me. I loved it.

In July, I finished off grad school with my last week of the summer writing program. Gans flew in from Colorado. We were Bob Holman's sidekick for the week. Tim was participating in the SWP as well. Chelsea moved to Boulder. It was a week of more newness.

That weekend, Chelsea and I and our totally new friend Alex drove to Steamboat Springs, then Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I got in my first car accident ever. Autumn's van was totaled and I was shaking for three days. I drove my first UHaul, shared a tent with two stranger friends and enjoyed every second of the rest of our trip.

August was when my parents, brother and aunt came to visit for my parent's 30th anniversary. I loved sharing the mountains and my Boulder world with them. We ate at the Cheesecake factory for their anniversary and true love re-instilled itself in my heart.

I was in Oregon and Seattle for the beginning of September. My backpack was stolen, along with Leland, my computer and my favorite necklace. I spent time with some of the most amazing people I will ever meet (they are all biking to Costa Rica as I type, and I respect them more than I can type.)

I re-met Dan in September. Granted, it was under awful circumstances. My father had serious back surgery and I flew back last minute to surprise him and nurse him. I called Dan before my flight back and we decided we should hang out. I am inexplicably glad we decided to hang out again.

In October, I held three jobs: database entry girl for Free Speech TV; poetry teacher for 7th graders at a Waldorf School and ATD rep for the world. I was atomic tangerine crayon for Halloween.

November was another adventure month, where Dan accompanied me on another one of my trips across Colorado. We went to Aspen, Salida, Crested Butte, Telluride (Obama was elected President of the United States), Dolores, Pagosa Springs, Moab, UT, Park City and Salt Lake City Utah. We had a phenomenal time and I wish we could do it all over again 50 more times.

And in December, Dagny passed away. She was the best kitty in the entire world and I still love her like she's alive. Unfortunately, this was not only the most monumental thing to happen to me in December, but possibly in 2008. She was my sidekick, my buddy who was always there when I came home and I loved her like one would love a best friend or a family member. She had a spark in her that made her more human than animal and everyone saw it.

2008 was a great year. Did it beat out years past? I can't really judge because life is a wave of ups and downs and ins and outs and I truly wouldn't appreciate the sweet parts of life without the sour parts. 2008 had lots of sweets and sours, so it seemed more extreme than other years. Perhaps that is why I can look back on it with such fondness.

not like a line at all, but a cave exploration entry

2008-12-25T02:21:00.004-05:00

clever, how a wave will trill upon earth's surface
like stuck mud in a tire tread
willing its way away from the puddle

(even at its own expense)

stretching to seep into something
other than its destined path of pond swallowed stillness

the way a wave reaches inspires,
like it's alive to find the beach's periphery

upon this edge it crashes
as it knocks on the door of fragments dripping,
sifting in an endless hourglass of stimulation

dag

2008-12-16T13:22:00.004-05:00

Dagny passed this morning with the support of Ed at Boulder Veterinary Hospital. Ed was very helpful and understanding of the situation Dagny was in. After a rough night back here at the house (not eating, moving or drinking), Dagny slept in my bed with me and mewed sporadically into the night. In the morning, I gave her a hug and brought her back to the vet when her symptoms worsened. They ran some tests on her and found out her red blood cell count was at 10% which is 20% below normal and 3% away from death. Her tongue was nearly grey and she wasn't responding to anything. Although we are not 100% sure, the predicted diagnosis was feline leukemia and that she probably wouldn't make it to the end of the day.

I made the decision only with the help of Ed and Jen, who talked to me on Monday about her thoughts on euthanasia. At the time, it was the last thing I wanted to think about, since I still had my hope filled heart that Dagny just had a fever. But Jen explained that we are lucky to have that option for our pets; when they are enduring so much pain to stay alive and keep us happy, it is our option to not let them make that sacrifice for us. Dagny was doing just that. She was clinging on to dear life for us. Twice she tried to hide and die, embarrassed to have the ones that loved her so much see her in such weakness.

Last night, I kept her on a pillow next to a low blowing fan to keep her fever down and make sure she wouldn't quit just yet on us. But this morning, when we found out what was wrong with her and that her body was fighting itself to death, Ed helped me come to the decision that she shouldn't be in pain any longer.

She was a brave cat. I always said she could take a mountain lion. Unfortunately, there are diseases and viruses that attack our vulnerabilities. It is impossible for me to find a good reason or explanation for Dagny's passing. She was two years old and the happiest, most active, loving and coolest cat I have ever known. I know everybody says that about their pet. I don't think that diminishes the sincerity or truth of the statement when one makes it.

When I calmed down this morning and thought about all the people in this world who Dagny has touched, who would want to know, it made me happy that so many people loved her. She was the kind that cat-haters ended up liking. And anytime hate can be turned into love, there must be a special soul in the works to create such a drastic change of heart.

I want to say she will be missed and at the same time I'd like to say she is always with me. Neither of these statements are completely accurate. Right now I am suspended in between grief and love of my little buddy who blessed my life with her presence.

pyrexia comes from Greek 'pur', which means 'fire'

2008-12-15T01:09:00.006-05:00

i am staring at the seafoam green botched paint job wall of my cell. at least that is what i feel like i am in. i am trapped in this rectangular room with jovial voices behind the employees only door, muffled enough to keep my ears from hearing why or how they possibly could be high-spirited while these adorable, obviously loving creatures are aching, possibly dying, at their fingertips. the portraits on the walls are trivial, failing at their attempts to cheer me up.

i switch positions on the bench. i stare at the poster board of the anatomy of my cat. why didn't they be more specific when asking for her symptoms? i want to burst through the employees only door and see what they are doing to her. if she is laying on the hospital bed next to that barking dog. she hates dogs. i am sure that in her hot little body, that insistent little mind of hers will simply give up fighting for life... it just might not be worth it to live through this night listening to this incessantly yelping dog.

the doctor says his piece to me about how bad her fever is and that they cannot possibly know what it is without a series of tests. he sends his technician in a few minutes later to outline the thousand dollars in costs for tests of every kind. of course it could be anything when they haven't asked me about any symptoms, behavioral changes or factors that might have led up to the fever. i ask if they may do one test at a time to see if anything shows up and then we can proceed to medicate, decide how to treat her illness. she has to ask, she says.

the technician comes back in with a new "quote". i feel more like i am haggling with a peddler. like i am negotiating my cat's life. this this and this will cost blah blah and blah. she is using technical terms and when i ask her what she means, her descriptions are equivocal, like she is defining a word using that word in her definition. her explanations are circular and obscure and i feel like i am being given the runaround. i am not doubting her basic knowledge of what it is they are doing... i just want her to speak in layman's terms for me, because i am asking what we can do to help dagny, what we might do to diagnose and treat her without just stabbing at the issue from a thousand different angles, and eventually, maybe not ever, concluding which angle it is that is poking her so to make her lethargic, feverish, piss herself in the basement and sit in it. . .

i am crying again and it is impossible for me to explain myself or clearly speak to this technician when i feel so vulnerable. i am angry and spastically depressed that i might possibly be spending more on my cat than i spend on my own health. i am ashamed that i am thinking this way. i am angry that this process, these doctors are making me feel like this. she continues the negotiations, eventually telling me that we can do a shot and send her home with me for a fraction of the price, but this is highly unadvised by the doctor. i ask her about the sliding scale of testing again. she responds that the doctor advises all testing to find out the trigger of her fever. she doesn't understand. i am not against trying to save my cat's life. i just feel like i am being robbed. used. i am feeling dagny's fever through anger, shaking and irrepressible sniffling.

the doctor is okely-dokely-ing behind the employee's only door. i suddenly hate him. i want to take dagny and drive her to denver. find a doctor who wants to save animals, not poke around with my cat all night. i want her to sleep in my bed with me tonight. i don't trust these car-salesmen vets.

i leave dagny locked up to her IV in the pet emergency room with those cackling vets and obnoxious dog. i hope she hangs on because so many people love her and because i would and will spend more money on her than on my own health. she is the light that brings me home when i am on the road and the breath that susurrated me to sleep last night. i cathect her.

Prop 8 - The Musical

2008-12-07T10:37:00.000-05:00

See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die

I wrote a paper in college against a similar proposal in New York back in 2005. I wish I had just written a musical with Jack Black as Jesus. Genius!

Duck Conquers Colorado, Then World!

2008-12-03T17:21:00.005-05:00

This blog began as a place to type up and store my poetry. It has proven very useful for that, as I have had to deal with the death and disappearance of two full-loaded laptops.

When I moved to Colorado, it started to morph into a virtual world of "what's meghann up to?"

Then it again turned into something new... I wanted to make it a place where Leland's adventures were drafted, organized and subsequently turned into a miraculous series of Duck Conquers Colorado, Then World! He has also since disappeared. (Check every single Crane-Operated Claw Animal Vending Machine!!!! He was produced by Sugarloaf Creations and they said all their ducks are specifically sold for Crane-Operated Claw Vending purposes...)

Since I lost my buddy, it has become more and more about posting up photographs, random thoughts, long blusters of uninsightful meghann-head and whatever else a blog can possibly be. To put it simply, this blog is out of control!

It has no discipline, direction, exact purpose... and the reason I am concerned about these things at all is that I want it to have a purpose and direction - which can only be achieved through discipline! I will save my "This is how life is going" for mass-emails or whatever.

I almost think this blog site has had it's day and might continue to be the babble that it is, for my own enjoyment and a few scattered readers out there.

However, a new project is in the making. I want it to be a webSITE, not a blog. So I am projecting it will take a few months. I have started to look into learning more about computer graphics and HTML and anyone (that means you George, Tim, Kansky, Patrick...etc.) who wants to impart their computerly wisdom on me, I am all ears eyes and smiles.

I just want to take this inconclusive conclusion to thank everyone who has read and commented on this raggedly ole blog all these years. You all mean a lot to me, which is why you were invited to read my scattered thoughts in the first place.

Cheers!

890 sq ft of Reality surrounded by Boulder

2008-12-03T12:34:00.006-05:00

As has been stated recently on this blog, I am hardly ever in Boulder anymore. There is a huge part of me that feels incomplete and sad never seeing Dagny, hanging out at my house with my awesome roommates and just catching up with old friends in town.

Late last night, I flew into Denver from being home for a Thanksgiving visit with family and Dan. I say these two separately because it was definitely my intention to visit both of these people I love very much. I had such a great time spending time with them and enjoying endless leftovers, not to forget dad's famous turkey stew.

And on the plane ride home, I read and read and wrote and wrote. I am reading a book called The Road Less Traveled by Scott Peck, and anybody who has spoken to me in the last few weeks is familiar with the summary of it. In a sentence, it is a depiction, through the eyes and experience of a well-educated psychiatrist, of the attributes that make for a fulfilled human being through the application of genuine love. There are a few reasons I've delved so deeply into it, one being that he breaks down and defines terms we all too often believe have an umbrella definition, when they are actually inherently interpretive: Love, Discipline, Balance, Suffering, Truth... etc.

When I returned to Boulder, Chelsea called to hang out and just talk. It was late, but I realized I have been lazy with my relationships, hanging out only when it was convenient or easy for me. Peck says genuine love takes work, and I felt that work in my Boulder friendships has been lacking lately. So Chelsea and I sat in my living room. We talked and listened. I missed her more than I had even known.

I am living three different lives. In terms of spreading oneself too thin, I have certainly done it in the past year. I cannot love everyone all the same amount all of the time, especially because of work, distance and time. I essentially live in three separate realms, all of which are known to the ones I love, but not fully understood. I attempt to slap some adhesive on these realms by inviting people to visit or tag along in my traveling world. I think that this helps, but I am glad I have finally become fully aware of its existence so I may take the necessary steps to actually fix it.

This morning Chels, Tim and I went to The Village diner. We had "intellectual" conversations about the world, life, love, choices, the future... all these things that plague the inquisitive mind on a daily basis. Most only have their minds to marinate it in; I am lucky enough to have friends like these two to spill it all out onto. After the morning enjoyment of each other's thoughts and wisdom, we concurred that it is one thing to figure all these things out and say what we will do, it is all together another thing to apply them to our realities.

And that is when we noticed that we were sitting in The Village Coffee Shop, whose motto is "890 square feet of Reality surrounded by Boulder"

We are in reality, where ever we are. We must live like that. Live our to-do lists. Live our dreams. Proverbs and adages are proverbs and adages for a reason; time and time again they have proven useful and true. And with that optimistic thought, we went about our day of work with thoughtful minds.

I will finish my to-do list today.

phrase of the day

2008-11-23T21:30:00.003-05:00

Gelatinous mass is my favorite phrase of the day. A woman on the discovery channel used it to describe squid genitals.

Yuck, but awesome phrase. Gelatinous mass. Say it 5 times fast. gelatinous mass gelatinous mass gelatinous mass gelatinous massgelatinous mass... squid eggs is fun, too.

Okay, enough. Enjoy the image I just put in your head.

Who knew Salt Lake City would smell salty?

2008-11-19T19:59:00.004-05:00

Grand Salt Lake Park is located just west of SLC in Magna, Utah. Drive down Saltair Street to get to the marina, and as soon as you step out of your vehicle, get ready for some sea-smell. It smells like a clam bit your face.

I went to SLC today to find a belt and found a magnificent selection, horribly arranged and difficult to sift through, at Decades, a Vintage clothing shop downtown. This is only funny because I've been actively seeking an article to keep my pants up for weeks now. I couldn't seem to find the right fit or price for my belt-budget. Decades provided me the simplicity and comfort of having my pants stay on my waste.

Here are some pictures of the huuuuuuuge lake. And the sand looking stuff is not sand, it's salt. Salt and cattails.

hello life, i'm back...

2008-11-19T11:12:00.008-05:00

Boulder from above

Being that my body only enters my wonderful Boulder life a handful of times a month, I must make the most of it with the people i love there.

Hike with Heidi Malia and Milo and a night of shenanigans with Kyle and Chels.

It was windy whirlwinderson and then stopped suddenly when we saw a frantic tumbleweed, so i told Heidi to blow it for a fun video. It moved with her mighty blow, but i don't yet know my camera well enough to get these things accurately...

Bill and his band Backwoods Galaxy practicing in the front lawn on a late november afternoon... 63 degrees out !

he likes the responsibility of off-leash

so does this guy... leap!

but goat and hoss must remain leashed. they are simple.

everyone takes a stop for a sip

...errr sniff at the dirt in milo's case

Wonderland Lake

kyle and chels kiss after her new lip-implants

we got used to her by the end of the night... very scarlett johanssonesque

...it's contagious

I miss you guys... can't wait to be back again in December - - - >

i didn't die in rock springs

2008-11-19T11:01:00.003-05:00

i was apprehensive to make mapquest's requested route from boulder to park city. instead of heading due west through beautiful colorado rockies, MQ said to head north then shoot west through all of wyoming on I-80.

i hate I-80. i thought i hated wyoming (excepting jackson). turns out it is beautiful. jar-dropping sunset, good drivers on i-80, so dark and vast, i could see every star in the sky and pretty lakes and mountain juts.

i forgive you wyoming for what you had done to me in the past. maybe i only forgive your bottom half...

sky striations...

resuscitation

2008-10-12T01:34:00.000-04:00

at this pace, i'll be in love with you by September
from the cadence of the seasons change,
it'll smooth on into November
and the yesterdays will spill into
tomorrow's beating heart
and life will receive an unasked for
recharged start

Phosphenes

2008-10-11T23:19:00.004-04:00

Every year the branches bloom
a veiny version of paper
Each leaf, a sprout shaped unique:
an origami pleated by the maker.

And in the trees are answers for
the one who chooses to look.
It may not read as easily
as the progression of a book...

but life is like a tree of leaves
and leaves have surface area for a reason
They splay and grow in the light
and come & go from season to season

The veins of leaves are distinct lines
as the leaves resemble sentences.
The hidden answer does not lie between
the senses of one's retinas.

Liverpool, NY

2008-10-11T22:10:00.006-04:00

I went home a few weeks ago to visit my father after his back surgery, hang out and play nurse. The conclusion of the long weekend home is that my father is a super hero and no body knows it. He is the quickest surgery healer in the universe. I checked the Guiness Book of World Records and he beat it. Yes, I will not be specific about which world record he beat... I forgot the name... but just believe me. Dad = rock star.

While I was home, I was able to spend some time with old friends. This was a breeze of tranquility for me; a breath of cool mint in my face. Jen and I watched top 25 places in the USA to visit on the Travel Channel and the Grand Tetons of Wyoming won first place! I agree, to an extent.

I also had the privilege to reconnect to my old Academic Support buddy Dan. We were the dorks sprinting through the hallways every day after History class, racing to our lockers. Competitiveness never ends, it seems. I beat him in Shuffleboard with some tipsy LeMoyne guy, whose name I forgot and is not important anyway.

It made me think about home in a different way. It's comfort. It's relief.

For me, that weekend was finding a ladybug land on my hand. I believe that ladybugs are lucky, but luck doesn't just come. It is triggered. It was 5 days of unraveling events of happy coincidences.

It is now two and a half weeks later and the smile hasn't left my face. The memory feels like a next door neighbor; I can knock on his door any day and he'll be there to have a conversation with.

I miss home, but not as a physical place. I miss it as a memory. As a unit of me that is somewhere that I am not. I continually wish my family and friends and loved ones to move to a solid place, or commune, where we can wake up and eat breakfast together every morning. Where I can once again see the pattern of their habits and they can learn the direction that mine have taken in the years that I have been away. We can re-familiarize ourselves with all the nuances of the hearts and minds that mean the most to us. It is a place of us. I miss us.

That was a ramble of the sub-conscious. Now, a few pictures from the Syracuse Airport:

The words that come to mind are:

segregation
delay
bandaged due to damage
unfit to live
compiled
denied
left
lost?

I captured and trapped, then plundered his words...

2008-10-11T21:44:00.004-04:00

I asked him what he thought about...
Expanding Circles

he said,
they don't stick around for long enough...
and padded squares unravel
from the quadrant's angry angles.
We have no choice but to steal
the memories and dreams of others;
they're the quilt that keeps
our souls warm at night.

A noontime nap can help.
It is a dose of dozing
and dreams are fireworks:
Brilliant powerful ubiquitous images
and then they are gone
Quick glimpses remain:
A Phosphenes behind our eyelids -
outlines like a bright flashlight
that momentarily blinds.

We accompany the moon's rays
by following her beams' path
as a guide -
a reflection of reality
trapped in the psyche
of the past.

Our hopes, ambitions, fears,
desires and needs...
These are all things like beams
They are seen and they are there
but to say the word
is like shouting a cloud
into cold air.

These puffs of nothing
and everything
at once
terrify and electrify us
They are the very DNA
of our non-physical existence

If we could deduce a system
to capture...
to wrap it up in a blanket of...
a quilt...
or maybe we're always making quilts
when what we need to be making
is bed sheets.

Layers to lay down on
and wash when dirty.

C.H.L

2008-10-05T00:51:00.000-04:00

looking to the rafters and the rafters got an answer
but the rafters don't send postcards
or fake magazine exposure photos

the rafters shed some light, but they shed it all night through
they shine it down on everybody -
me, him, her and you
the light, it looks like answers
and it may look like a smile
but I tell ya one thing true,
a smile can be faked from either side

Cedaredge, CO

2008-10-04T09:52:00.000-04:00

It's pretty up here!

See :)

Mashing

2008-09-16T19:25:00.001-04:00

Yes Obama's mellifluous speeches woo the budding rhetorician in me to once again feel passionate about politics, but he sure can dance, too.

The story of Meg(h)an(n) and David

2008-09-16T15:04:00.008-04:00

The story according to me* is that David is a trucker from Vermont. Rising gas prices have placed him in a virtual stalemate. It’s too expensive to drive anywhere, but if he doesn’t drive he doesn’t earn any money. The burly trucker is holed up in his cabin deep in contemplation, verging on depression, all triggered by the economic recession.

Megan is a phone sex operator with whom David has been chatting for months. Through continued correspondence (costing him $1.99 a minute) she convinces him to get back on the road again, if only to see her. While he goes about his cross-country journey to end up in her arms, he’ll be able to make a haul and bring in some income along the way. In reality, Megan is a suburban soccer mom with three kids and mini van in Arizona. Hmmm…looks like her husband’s going to have some interesting and unexpected company.

(Full disclosure: I drew inspiration for my story from an article about high gas prices hurting brothels.)

Dave’s take:
David was raised well—the standard life of a good school, good parents, athletic trophies (I’m assuming on the last bit). Then in his college years, David becomes a jihadist. He grows a beard, converts to radical branch of Islam and joins a terrorist sect. He goes about all his extremist duties which culminate in his hi-jacking a plane.

David makes it through the metal detectors, the security personnel and boards the plane. Also on board is Megan. Megan’s a flight attendant. All these principals David has held so near and dear to his heart (caged by his ribs and bomb vest) are erased over the course of the flight as he falls for Megan during her continual trips up and down the aisle and adjustment of his seatback. He can no longer carry-out his suicide mission as he just can’t kill Megan.

Crisis averted!

* An article taken from Willamette Week- (wweek.com) a Portland, Oregon news source.

How the Universe Works

2008-09-16T01:10:00.000-04:00

Humanity is needing something other than yourself

a touch, a hug of reaffirmation that the body still exists -
that you haven't disintegrated into yourself, yet.

Getting stuck inside your head
is eventual hell.

& it's easy to let this polluted world
kill bits of our innocence

(things can be taken from a rumble strip conversation)

tamari moderator

2008-09-16T01:09:00.000-04:00

We hold on by the pinky finger of cell phone service
to keep our 'to be continued,' continued.

Conversational Jenga
and every time the tower tips,
we build it up again.
Even during a rumble strip
exchange.

That’s companionship.

And friends know when you’ll be home.
Friends think ahead in such instances.
Friends greet you with a tofu curry dinner
and excited story-telling dishwashing energy.

My mind could have used a moderator
on the drive home.

It leaked ideas.

Observations on 9/11/08 on 285

2008-09-16T01:07:00.000-04:00

Truck amputee abandoned on the side of the highway.

Comic strip clouds of Colorado
& the dusk smudge of distant mountains.

Lonely cows surrounded by their species -
gathered in such huddles…
what a malodorous example of community tolerance:
everyone's breath and asses
on the same horizontal plane.

It’s filled with imitation cop cars –
siren shaped roof racks
keep me from speeding.

Fog fills the canyon like a split dam.

Shape of a shadow valley is beauty leaking.

Even when valley is vast and empty,
it peels the paper back
on the crayon color of my smile.

Amethyst Necklace

2008-09-16T00:58:00.007-04:00

Unsure if we were attempting it,
(sideways high-fives until sunrise)
we fell asleep in the clouds
& woke up to speckled snowflake footprints
of people passing by in the night -
I never wanted our wallpaper windows
to defrost.

Wanted to never need to snooze,
have all the time in the world
to lay side by side and smile.

It wasn't my place to ask what was on your mind -
I listen to the yellow lines,
never pass unless perforated.
So will you perforate your heart for me?

I'm an amateur harmonicist
out of practice with this
so I visually willed you to kiss me
but you didn't quite read me right

I want to write songs about the scent
of your vanilla mint breath
breathing me warm
in my cozy crawl-space bed,
where we worked on our Pilates form.

I'll be your word a day,
your way of learning during mindless counting.

I want to swim with you
in not-awkward silences
& quiet my violently beating heart...

...but instead I spill this
on a Safeway receipt
on the side of 285
going home.

Going Alone

2008-09-16T00:53:00.000-04:00

If you wanna ride with me,
you'll have to sit cross-legged
cause leg space is limited

Little did the thief know, he'd cause accumulation.

2008-09-16T00:46:00.001-04:00

A held hose
gets SF
and spews all at once.

I haven't had a computer since Oregon, so these next few days will be flooded by the dam that broke in me.
Nothing a beaver could fix.

*splash*

Cougar Bait

2008-09-15T23:56:00.003-04:00

Whoever says it's rude
to ask about calluses,
canker sores and ulcers

is embarrassed because

they forgot to ask
about calluses,
canker sores and ulcers.

"But even when the window's clean I still can't see for the fact that when it's clean it's so clear I can't tell what I'm looking through"

2008-09-15T22:34:00.004-04:00

I sometimes wonder what the windshield
of our lives would look like
if we hadn't hit defrost

What if we kept it frozen like
a polaroid icicle,
captured in the pose of love?

...maybe moved to the mountains
as you once had mentioned
and kept me guessing
when it would happen

Was I always wishing or
was it ever a holy love
as I had seen it?

My guess is yes because
one must experience something
to feel the phantom limb of it -
the ache of its absence

You're the only memory that makes
me crumble into a pile
of vulnerability

I need to know permanence
on your end
before I can...

finish that sentence.

Freedom

2008-08-29T23:45:00.005-04:00

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.

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

2008-08-25T20:56:00.005-04:00

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

2008-08-25T20:50:00.005-04:00

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

2008-08-25T20:46:00.003-04:00

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

2008-08-25T20:33:00.003-04:00

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

2008-08-25T01:53:00.001-04:00

Check

them

out.

Made a bad day happy.

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

2008-08-24T20:24:00.005-04:00

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.

Land of Port

2008-08-23T21:33:00.003-04:00

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!

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

2008-08-22T23:36:00.004-04:00

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

2008-08-22T23:15:00.003-04:00

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

2008-08-22T22:15:00.004-04:00

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.)

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

2008-08-20T23:15:00.005-04:00

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

2008-08-20T18:07:00.006-04:00

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!

There is Oxygen in the Trees

2008-08-07T13:44:00.005-04:00

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

2008-08-07T12:57:00.002-04:00

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

2008-08-07T02:14:00.000-04:00

for que

Got Dope-Flavored Milk?

2008-08-05T13:38:00.005-04:00

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...

2008-08-05T12:57:00.006-04:00

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

2008-08-05T12:36:00.003-04:00

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.

Earth Ships - Check em out

2008-08-04T20:38:00.012-04:00

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 . . .

bungled jungle in salida

2008-08-01T01:07:00.008-04:00

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.

Fourth of July Jaunt

2008-07-30T18:41:00.010-04:00

Telluride Bridal Falls

Passing over Kebbler Pass... tree huggin'

Columbine

performative posing with Leland on the Telluride stage

2008-07-30T17:45:00.007-04:00

Warning: It's the Height of Tourist Season in Wyoming

2008-07-26T00:19:00.008-04:00

These posts have become a bit scattered and random, so I will not attempt to explain how all these events line-up... who cares anyway?

Stopping in Rock Springs Wyoming could have been the worst decision made on summer adventures so far. I should have listened to my instincts and not over-nighted my summer thesis. We made friends with just about EVERYBODY in Staples. All the employees stared poked and prodded at us as if we were cute alien species to them.

Chelsea was freaked out. Alex was hungry. I was indifferent (except that I was pissed it cost 40 dollars to send paper 350 miles.)

We ate dinner at a converted Burger King Sushi restaurant. Chelsea was freaked out. Alex was hungry. I was hungry, too.

We ate sashimi and didn't get sick. We laughed. There was lots of laughter on our trip because I think we are an odd combination of brains.

On our way out and away from Rock Springs, Wyoming, Mark in a white ice delivery truck decided it was unnecessary to stop when all the traffic in front of him was immobile. We happened to be the lucky recipients of his Dodge Ram schnoz and all the weight of ice behind it.

Here is Autumn's new van after the crash:

The scary part was, Chelsea wasn't even in a real seat. The universe gave us ( credit a.o.b) this divine chesterfield.

Well, actually Chelsea found her for free in at Rummages in Steamboat. We figured since it was in a "No Dumping Zone" it was probably clean...

Stuck in Rock Springs, we searched for a hotel. The woman at the front desk at Econo Lodge told us we'd have a hard time finding a place since it was height of tourist season in Rock Springs. Chelsea freaked out: "What the fuck is there to do here? Are there hot springs?!" Feeling uncomfortable, the woman ignored Chelsea's plea and directed us to The Sands Inn, where we had a full sized refrigerator and microwave for me and Alex's late night gas station burritos.

Even the Buddha looks sad with that gray sky behind him.

We rented a UHaul the next day and were on our way, sans music, but with a bucket seat!

* note: Chelsea does not often freak out, Rock Springs freaks her out. Alex wasn't always hungry, we all were always hungry. And I am not often indifferent. I am generally precise and picky. It was WYOMING that flips it all around. It's in the water.

WELCOME TO COLORFUL COLORADO!

2008-07-24T20:22:00.004-04:00

After driving through dingy dismal eastern Wyoming (NW Wyo ROCKS)

Chelsea and I decided to color-it-up a little with Autumn Teneyl sale bins. :)

Utopia

2008-07-24T20:09:00.004-04:00

"Woop Woop" is an Australian term for "no where" (at least that's what the label on the wine we drank in Jackson Hole, Wyoming told us.)

Last night we went to Mary's Lake Lodge in Estes Park to watch Pete play musics. Here's Chelsea in front of Lodges.

We met a guy named Nathaniel Daniel Johnson. His mom told him to check out Pete at the Lodge. We invited him to sit with us.
He was intense. We liked that about him. He broke up language phonetically. He said the root of the word Utopia meant "No Place" or "Nowhere". When you broke the word it up, it could say "Now Here" and Nate said this is what Utopia is to him: Now. Here.

I agree with Nate. I like intense people.

Biking in Boulder

2008-07-24T19:31:00.004-04:00

Chelsea Meersea signing on.

I was enjoying my first day of absolutely nothing since I came out West. Since the last two weeks have been all sorts of detached drifting (perfect) this was the first time I could lay around, roll around, on the carpet making nonsensical sounds and dreaming about things I could be doing but preferred not to.

Eventually Meghann showed up from sleeping and had these crazy ideas of motivation, which I lack most the time. I prefer to be as inactive and uninvolved in the whole real life thing as possible. Sometimes. Never consistent bear in mind. She wanted to go for a bike ride. With a bit of coercing, as reluctant as I was, she got me.

Meghann mounted her bike excitedly since it has been awhile since she's done so and I was placed on Rachel's bike. I will admit, I was nervous. I don't really trust myself with most things and I've never rode on such terrain. The most I've done was cruise New Brunswick, NJ which I found somewhat difficult but that was probably mostly associated with the fact that my bike was pretty awful and I was usually struggling against the handlebars wobbling & twisting & turning. They did not want to be a part of my bicycle. They had their own agenda other than being involved with a cheap KMart bike.

Anyway, back to the present. The gears were what Meghann explained were "low" when I told her that I wanted to "lower" them, she said that I didn't want to "lower" them. The pedals were not even being useful on our downhill cruise and I was a little worried. I had no idea how to use these crazy gear adjuster things on this bike that I was borrowing. With a little fidgetting I figured it out and the rest of the ride to downtown was soooooo fun. I think I am going to enjoy my environmentally friendly new mode of transportation. Meghann said I should wait to see how I feel after the uphill ride home.

We got downtown and stopped at the sandwich shop that she used to work with. Food is good. Meghann said I eat a lot for such a small body. I've never really been able to properly explain that about myself but it has been pointed out to me plenty of times.

The sandwiches were pretty tasty.

From there we rode a few blocks to some store called Dragonfly. Meghann was being a spy. I liked that. For a minute I pretended that I was on a secret mission. I wanted to be in the mob. I didn't like how the store smelled. We also didn't lock the bikes and I knew that if someone rode away with Rachel's bike I'd feel awful so I stood outside and pretended to be on the lookout while Meghann made the hit.

I didn't tell her that I was pretending all of that.

Then we had to ride back up the hill to our abode. Once I realized by adjusting the gears just right it was an awesome ride and I felt really tough. I could get used to it and I will indeed.

After getting back and my heart rate stopped pounding through every vein in my body like a powerful drum, I rolled around some more on the carpet enjoying having no real agenda. Bill, Meg, and myself were talking about states and her trips and she was trying to figure out the best route to get to Seattle. Bill and her were discussing how long it might take if you take different routes so I whipped out my newest US map full of highways. I was distracted with my map for a long while then we realized we had to get to Hygiene in a half hour so we quickly showered to make our exit.

I put my hair in braids just because I once again have access to my brush which I didn't during our excursion.

We got Meghann's guitar. While waiting for her buddy who had it 2 girls came around selling magazines. The spokesgirl was from Wisconsin and her comrade was from North Carolina. I liked her enthusiasm.

Then we went to Hygiene which Marlene (the GPS) considered Longmont. I think it was Longmont because when we got there the sew-er said it was. But the sewing factory was awesome and full of Autumn's fabric. When we were there they were also making eco-friendly baby diaper accessory schwagg. The lady told good stories. She was a wonderful character. She had a tattoo on her right shoulder. Her husband was boxing things for shipment. Baby stuff.

Then we came to Lyons. I sure was tired by now. So blah blah Meghann pretty much covered this and I think her coverage is good enough. The most important things was our awful spicy iced chargers and how uncomfortable I made Pete even though I think he was a wonderful addition to the characters in and out of my life. We'll be seeing him later when Meghann gives him the charger for his computer.

Good people.

Functional Schwag

2008-07-24T19:18:00.002-04:00

Chelsea and I are sitting at the Stone Cup in Lyons. The Stone Cup is closed. We went to the Barking Dog across the street to grab espresso energy. We both got iced Bhakti chai with two shots of espresso. The girl poured an inch of chai dust into our cups. It's too spicy and dusty.

We walked back to the Stone Cup to plug in and we met Pete. Pete forgot his mac charger. After an ounce of chat we found out he lives a few blocks away from us in Boulder. We devised a plan to get Pete his charger so he could finish his work. Pete started this company. Chelsea asked for a job. Pete got uncomfortable. Chelsea specializes in making people feel uncomfortable. Pete offered us schwag as collateral for helping him out. Chelsea didn't know what schwag is, so we looked it up. The term is most often used to refer to cheap weed. He meant it to be free promotional products.

When you live on the road or move across the country in less than a medium-sized suitcase, schwag is the last thing you want. Chelsea wants a job and me, I just like to be accommodating.

We're meeting him later with his charger so he can do his work and we can get some totes or pens - functional schwag.

just a tiny update

2008-07-15T01:54:00.003-04:00

Since Ojo, I traveled down through Santa Fe to Albuquerque where Que was picked up for some road trippin'. We drove back up to Pagosa, nearly striking a horse with the van and then not a minute later, a deer.

Northern New Mexico is one of those areas you should enter with much more than a 1/4 of a tank of gas. We had to cruise downhill for a while to make sure we made it 30 miles on an "empty" tank. Keeping the roll going, we had to neglect a stop sign and a nice man in a cop car pulled us over to remind us not to do so. He was nice enough to follow us to the gas station to make sure we made it safely.

Quick summation, 'cause I'm tired. 4th of July in Telluride, slept on the stage. Gans and Chelsey flew in to visit (and live) in Boulder. Summer writing program, Steamboat Art in the Park and met a nice guy named Alex who has been accompanying Chels and I on our adventures. Tonight was Strawberry Hot Springs and Thai food. Super 8 and Sufjan. Many photographs of Jackie and I and Leland dancing and tree hugging are expected. Hope everyone in the world wide web world (redundant?) is doing well.

Be safe. Good luck,

meghann & leland.

Hooping Ped-Xing

2008-07-02T12:02:00.003-04:00

I saw this sign outside of Ojo Caliente and thought it appropriate.

When taking a closer look, I saw that it was a sign against meddling with signs - offering $100 rewards to people who had any information regarding sign vandals.

Awesome.

If you fart and no one is around to smell it, is it still repulsively funny?

2008-06-30T23:18:00.008-04:00

Traveling solo evokes a dueling combination of feelings: wildly nourished with freedom, yet thirsty for a companion.

And though Leland is a great traveling partner, I sometimes wish I had someone in the passenger seat to comment on how off key my singing can be. (How can I improve without criticism?)

I've been on a number of road trips with many different sidekicks: friends, family, boyfriends and strangers. But this is the first solo road trip I've ever taken and it is opening me up to many different parts of the country and more of myself than I could have imagined. The best part about my particular road trip is that I live in a festival world, where weekend to weekend, the vendors are my friends. And each time, I meet and get to know people faster than I ever thought possible.

For instance, Taos Solar Festival was sprinkled with even more Doloreans than just Kat and Chip. This time around Chris, Nikki, Jennifer and Jerry joined in. Chris gave me the best, most beneficial massage I've ever received. Nikki made me feel joyous inside with her energy and smiles. Jennifer was my trusty neighbor, whom I could chat with when it was slow (which was an entire day). And Jerry was an intriguing trickster, who collects gadgets and one-liners. Jerry saved our Saturday night with freshly squeezed Alaskan blueberry "Death Punch" (as he liked to call it), cilantro pine nut dip and a fresh shower for some very smelly vendors.

Two beautiful people I met that were not from Dolores were Kishna and Jon. They live on the road in their RV with their cute dog Scooby. Never have I ever met two people more in love with one another. More on these wonderful people later, as we have set to meet again sometime this summer.

Celebrity Status

2008-06-30T17:39:00.006-04:00

New Dance Move: the Shoe-Through

This is Jen.

(Sorry, all you official blogger readers who laugh at my inability to understand how to upload a video. I generally just avoid it - but this is too good to not share. )

The pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handles...

2008-06-30T16:59:00.005-04:00

I drove to Santa Fe the night before Taos Solar Music Festival to see the Nederland rock stars Elephant Revival do their thing and was delighted to see that the Santa Fe Brewery had porters and sweet potato fries.

After finishing my complimentary beverage, I felt inspired to bring out the ol’ Moleskine. I wrote this little scribble about something that had happened on the drive from Taos to Santa Fe. My rocket box had somehow popped open, yet managed to keep all my belongings safely in place.

Rocket Box Release

So what if
all flows out & gone

Material things are always
as there as air is

Why be attached
when there’s
so much more
to air

Music, moments
Laughs and learning
Breathing,
Yearning for all
to come
(and none of it is tangible)

As I was scribbling my thoughts, a photographer nearby poked me awake with a comment: “Glad to see people still use those things” pertaining to my pen and paper.

And I agree. In fact, right now, I am writing on my laptop in my makeshift bed. Typing has become much faster and more efficient for me. But when did efficiency and speed become so important? Technology has shifted our values in very poignant ways.

Before typographically musing, I was reading an article in The Atlantic called “Is Google Making Us Stupid?” I was drawn to this article because I wrote my Political Science thesis on the social effects of New Media and our capacity to interact (or lack thereof). My favorite article that I read for this research was Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone. Now, three years later, I wish Nicholas Carr had produced this Atlantic article for related investigations into the topic. His gist is that shifting technologies are not necessarily making us stupid, but rewiring the way we think.

My favorite reference in the article is about Nietzsche. When Nietzsche was going blind, he purchased a typewriter; as soon as he got the typing down, he no longer had to have his eyes open to transcribe his ideas. One of his friends told him that his already terse prose was becoming even more telegraphic. German media scholar Friedrich A. Kittler said his prose “changed from arguments to aphorisms, from thoughts to puns, from rhetoric to telegram style.” Perhaps this is why Nietzsche has always been so quotable for me as a voracious philosophy lover of the 20th century - he is succinct. I have to admit that I am quite a scatterbrain and have an appetite for knowledge, but a very short attention span for consuming it. Big eyes with a small knowledge stomach, I suppose.

I don’t think technology is ruining anything. We need not avoid it in order to save our attention spans. But I do think we shouldn’t let new media steal our old ways of communicating, learning and consuming information. We must attempt to maintain some old ways in order to continue to value quality and earning the gift of information.

Don’t let the vandals steal all our handles.

Amigos

2008-06-30T16:42:00.006-04:00

Leland made tons of new friends in Bluegrass, Pagosa and Santa Fe

Entering Purgatory

2008-06-30T15:43:00.005-04:00

We took off for Telluride Bluegrass a few hours late due to foiled travel plans. I scooted out of Pagosa around 3 pm, hoping to pull into town around 6:30 - just in time for Tiki Tuesday party with Pete and Cat. Unfortunately, technology got the best of me, and I followed my GPS system blindly into a very far out of the way dead-end.

Hermosa Pass: just behind Purgatory Mountain in Durango. I was excited to be in Durango, the first place I'd ever been to in Colorado, and still one of my favorite places to visit. I followed the dirt road switchback 17 miles up and behind a gorgeous valley of green as Nickel Creek trickled in the background.

Suddenly, I come around a bend to an actual creek that was more than trickling. It took me a moment to realize there was no where to go - that I'd have to turn back, drive back down through Durango to Mancos and up through Dolores to get to my final destination. I literally put myself 3 hours back on the arrival time and ended up setting up camp around 9 pm.

If only the new van could limbo. . . over the river.

But I won't diss on the new vehicle. I like my new jet-pack with rocket-boxes and automatic locks.

Hammockinabag

2008-06-30T15:38:00.003-04:00

I asked Chris and Kat what they thought my favorite made up word meant and I think we finally found it's definition.

adjective: the burnt out, unclean, feeling after festivalling oneself relentlessly for weekends on end
noun: objectification of the descriptive definition

We went to Michael's in Taos New Mexico and I saw an old Boulder friend eating breakfast with his fiancée and mother. Small world, ain't it?

I recommend trying Piñon Coffee at Michael's - yums!

6%

2008-06-23T21:54:00.001-04:00

left on the upper right corner - -
cannot wait to get some juice to document these travels

Back to TRide for Bluegrass!

2008-06-16T16:32:00.005-04:00

Back for the big one...

We build an actual shop for this festival - two booths back - with heaters at night.

Time to break out the cali in me . . . I am stoked

Plus there's always the beauty of the ride there and the town :)

Salad . . . uh.

2008-06-16T15:59:00.007-04:00

A few weeks back Rachel Tim Erin and I went to Valley View Hot Springs – the secret naked camping grounds with gorgeous algae filled natural springs of hotness. When relaying the directions to my oh-so-capable manual drivers, I would tell them it was just past Salida. All three Alaskans continued to pronounce it salad-uh, when it was clearly suh-lie-duh.

… time warp a few weeks .. . . . . . . .

After spending five days in this wonderful historic town right on the Arkansas River for FibArk, I think I finally concur with my pronunciation-impaired friends. Pronouncing it correctly would go against all the quirkiness this town has to offer.

I met 5 real gems. In short, the characters I crossed paths with daily were:

- a corduroy sewing hippie chick living in South Park CO with her husband Stu and two children who I swear to gaia were raised by wolves.

- the sweetest young playboy model looking jeweler who had 15 sisters and 9 brothers

- a didgeridoo making man living in Ward CO with the light bluest eyes I’ve ever seen

- a young girl who was betrayed by her lover – her girlfriend cheated on her in the jail cell next to her after they robbed the only cool coffee shop Salida has to offer: Bongo Billy’s

- my Israeli hat seller friend who tossed Frisbees with me and made me feel at home

The music was kicking, the river was flowing and all in all, I would come back and do it again. Most festivals have very definite “themes” or purposes, i.e. bluegrass, folk, art, etc. This festival had so many things going on, it was always entertaining. Two of the four days had 2 hours worth of karaoke on the stage in front of us. The first day, 75 percent of the participants blew me away; one of the guys serenaded me with Elton John, while another woman nailed Black Velvet. The second day of karaoke was the contest, which drew in all sorts of crazies. One guy totally ruined one of my favorite songs (She Talks to Angels, by the Black Crowes) by messing up a very essential line. He said, “She’ll tell you she’s an orphan so you won’t meet her family.” The true line, which says much more interesting things about the girl, is: “She’ll tell you she’s an orphan after you meet her family.” Much different, bud.

Someone stole my hoop. ☹ That’s what we get for sharing, I suppose.

A chick AC/DC cover band named Hell’s Belles from Seattle really just ROCKED the house on Saturday. They really did well with the crowd, too. I loved one line the lead singer shot out at the men in front: “Hey, I’m really lovin’ this testosterone cess-pool you got going on here in front… really entertaining and all… but I am pretty sure the people around you would rather not get intimate with your elbows. If you wanna jump around like a crazy – there’s a fence over there – go bounce off of that a few times. Thanks guys, let’s all have a good time.” These girls rock it – check them out sometime if you ever get the chance.

That’s all for now. No pictures because it was a very busy weekend and I took as little as possible to and from the show. That’s an excuse – I had plenty of time. I just forgot.

Kat & Chip

2008-06-16T15:18:00.009-04:00

My favorite part of the Telluride Jazz Fest were my neighbors Kat and Chip, of River Totems - whom I called collectively "Ketchup."

After leaving Telluride, I wandered south toward my favorite town in Colorado: Durango. Just before my turn to go east, instead of meandering through another great little town - Dolores - I stopped to check out my map.

Lo and behold, Kat drives up next to me at my oh-so-random pit stop and we get out to greet one another. She offers that I come back to her house in Dolores for a while to see where she lives and meet her pup.

I was so grateful to run into Kat again, as I wasn't sure where I would go or what I would do with the rest of my day. Here are some photos of her beautiful house in the hills of Dolores.

She collects gnomes and scatters them around her 5 acre property...

More gnomage:

This is her pup Tanzee and gnome number 8:

Yucca and lizards!

Cacti!

I knew they'd be friends - - - >

--- > best friends

Tanzee and Kat overlooking the valley

Dolores is a great town; Kat and Tanzee are friends for life. See you guys in Taos!

... the night, however, did not end in Dolores. I scooted down to Durango to catch a flick at the Abbey Theatre. With a Ska brew and buttered popcorn in hand, I made my way into the balcony seating (which was a nice comfy leather couch) and watched My Blueberry Nights with Natalie Portman, Nora Jones and Jude Law.

Decisions. I made it to the film just in time to miss the important first ten minutes. I also missed the opportunity of light and open internet cafes to find a good campsite. I drove as far toward Pagosa as I could and ended up sleeping next to a picnic table in a nice park by the river. A dog woke me up at 6:30 am with a sniff of my forehead.

Bum? No, just easy to please.

Mystically Hippie Me

2008-06-11T22:26:00.003-04:00

I thought Fir st was funny..

2008-06-11T21:17:00.007-04:00

Telluride has a cartoon map of its entire contents and I was a bit confused by FIR ST.

I wondered why there was a space in between the R and the S and then realized that all the streets were named after trees - so this one was FIR STREET.

I love the little towns of Colorado that are so small, they can name all their horizontal roads by letter. Salida is such a town. Mancos was such a town. This is Rd M in Mancos:

I am living on G st and 1st ave for the first night's stay and J st and 9th for the next three nights.

I am staying at Woodland's Motel, which is far from a motel since it has internet, a kitchen, a nice bathtub jacuzzi and it is owned by a family, so it feels more like a bed and breakfast. When I called, the initial greeting said:

Hello, you’ve reached Woodland Motel. If you would like to speak to Steve or Viva, and are not a telemarketer, please press 5 now. If you are a telemarketer, does your mother know what you do for a living? Please hang up now.

I thought that was charmingly hilarious. I called back again, just to make sure I heard right. Steve happily set me up with a one bed room, just a few blocks away from where I have to be in the morning.

Today was pretty rough for me, as all my close friends and family heard, since I called most of them. I nearly purchased a '93 maroon VW Eurovan for a mere 2 grand. Things ended up working out and the only thing I have to worry about is what kind of food I will fill myself with.

Thank you to everyone who helped me with my car trouble blues today. Especially Tim.

today smells like...

2008-06-11T11:59:00.000-04:00

soot and poo

My mechanic, Glen, told me this morning to keep my phone charged, 'cause once it goes, it goes and I am where I am when it leaves me.

Damn.

End of the 'ride

2008-06-10T17:54:00.003-04:00

This is my neighbor Chip. Words cannot describe how much I'll miss this surrogate uncle. Wonderful person :)

Plum and Lel!

This is my little buddy Hannah. She taught me everything I know about hooping.

---

Leland feels most comfortable perched up on my passenger seat, so he can see all the views. Since I can't see out the back of my car anyway, I keep my rear view mirror directed toward Leland, so I can watch how happy he is on his journey.