tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20460582409504372762024-02-18T21:40:15.024-08:00the vagabonded raconteur"bring to the shore the power of the ocean to forgive this mind of a selfish life,<br> stand below the shadow of a mountain to be made small apart from my spiraling stride,<br> bind these eyes with the silky stillness that only stars of midnight give,<br> shine through the wild with the deepest silence that man himself barely lets live.."the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.comBlogger400125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-34685873962265418902010-07-18T12:53:00.004-07:002010-08-28T12:28:51.043-07:00photographythis blog still contains the chronicles of 383 days of an epic adventure which are outlined on the lower right portion.<br /><br />however <a href="http://www.joelieske.com/">here is the photography site</a> for which you may now be looking.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-43714831940889235512009-09-12T14:07:00.005-07:002010-07-27T21:34:20.434-07:00[brother ivy]<object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=6510543&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=6510543&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/6510543">brother ivy</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1021389">joe lieske</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><br /><br />and <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joelieske/">pictures</a> too<br /><br />if you're visiting this site for the first time then please check out the outlined and linked "if you don't want to read them all.." column to the right.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-23427613702869056232009-06-28T22:45:00.004-07:002009-06-30T20:39:05.870-07:00Reprise #1: one month homei'm not sure what to title this, but i've been back home for one month now. there might be a group of friends and readers on this blog that still may be interested in this fact. for you, my handful, i fulfill a promise to share what's been happening.<br /><br /><br />to be honest, the perspective and momentum is being challenged here. often. and not always by others. the trail of adventure and life on the road has changed from its narrow line of motion and has transitioned back to the box of mazes and levels of familiarity of people and home and still not having much money.<br /><br />i sometimes sense the pressure strongest while trying to draw out the characteristics of the midwest. a few dozen people had surprised me while on the road when they randomly identified my ''midwest accent.'' it must be the oily pronunciation of aaahs, like in the word chicaahgo. for the most part, though, the midwest is conservative (whether they think it or not) and earnestly routinized and is a place where humor seems to be found in over-exaggerations, enthusiastic reactions, and corny jokes (of which i'm now guilty...corn, get it?).<br /><br />some of the little kids here suddenly look six years older and, strangely, some of the older people look ten years younger. but people grow up wherever they are and through whatever they're doing, whatever that might be. whether we realize it or not, we're forming perspectives that will guide us and will maybe one day surprise us when we compare it to one different than ours. i've found much fascination in the stories of these others through way of these comparisons and it's happening here, too. our collective growths compound with past routine and creates the cycle. the cycle. the cycle.<br /><br />i've found it useless to avoid the cycle as such. people grow up in whatever way they do and in the way we best know how. but i'm trying hard not to fall back into my old cycle and this is becoming a hard thing to do. here's how i mean this.<br /><br />the hardest part in returning is the lack of a short answer for the three hundred, eighty-three days of past friends, faith, and adventure. my mind jars and scrambles for balance in the random appearances and interactions with the questions of old friends who continue to happen back into this new life. i mean, it's been a year; i'm obviously older than the past year. but i'm no longer the traveling, curious guest with stories and a backpack and temporal sense of time and place. here people ask what i've been up to and most every conversation seems to focus in on the most significant responsibilities i now carry or plan to achieve (which are not many at this point, sorry). every once in a while the questions are bypassed by reminders for a shave and a haircut or another crack at the geico caveman comparison. i still have my own razors, thanks. nonetheless.<br /><br />i very much had (and still do have) a vision in returning for sharing the life and faith and community of the life away. i remember our house in fernie and then the boys place in portland. i wondered if rockford could use a house of twenty-something guys who were all trying to do the right thing together. i'd like to try to start something like that and, even though i'm technically in debt, i've seen more happen to me with the meager beginnings of four hundred dollars on <a href="http://vagabondedslurpee.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-1.html">day one</a> that i'm not really inclined to be hasty against either reality. there have already been some small ways that this has already been taking place, albeit in a way i never thought would have connected.<br /><br />one of my friends claire is involved in the lives of kids whom she lovingly calls ''her ghetto babies'' and they've grown so attached that she has decided to forgo a year long mission to africa in order to, in part, continue growing and ministering with these kids here in their projects. she asked eric and i to do music for their camp on thursday night and we did. the little girl's black voices squealed and chimed and the boys looked skeptically at the cajon drum box i was playing. but we sang and towards the end some of the guys took a quick lesson on the cajon and afterwards asked if i wanted to play basketball with them. i barely pulled off a dunk to satisfy their wonderings if ''whole wheat can boom.'' they shouted out the names of different nba players (they didn't know who luke longley was....hah) as they sat back and looped baggy jump shots towards the rusty backboard. we shot around and played until it was too dark for me to see the ball or, for that matter, to be able to tell them apart during their speedy dribbles and drives.<br /><br />i'm not entirely sure what the rest of those boys' life is like- their cycle and perspective. i heard back from claire that the kids really liked us and i hardly feel like i did anything. josh, another friend who's been involved with the same kids, and i were talking before a classic reunion game of capture the flag (of which some people still cheat and it drives me nuts) on friday night and josh shared his surprise on how easy it is to get involved and be a positive role model with claire's ghetto kids. i'm not even sure how claire got involved with these kids and families, but the distance she has come with them is huge. josh's mom had given the devotional before the playing of music on thursday and i deeply respected her fraying of usual proper mannerisms so that she could reach the kid's rougher attentions. it wasn't hard to tell by their quiet, long stares and little steps of coming out of themselves that they have a desire for respect and relationship that probably even they don't quite understand. here are kids growing up in ways they best know how and who seem willing to find a perspective that might begin a different, better cycle in the way they feel about themselves and God and for the way they treat each other and live their lives.<br /><br /><br /><br />now tonight is sunday. eric and i played some music at church this morning. yesterday i met a photographer who was shooting the wedding i was playing and he shares some ideas for rockford. i left the college group bonfire tonight and realized i've driven just over one thousand miles since being back. that's too much, man. what have i been doing with one thousand miles? and here i am back home for who knows how long or for what specific purpose, but i wonder what i've done with these days as well. even heavier i admit to myself that, for whatever reasons, it seems harder to live the right life of faith in action. but how worthless would it be to sit around and wonder what could be diminishing when i'm finding ways to be a part of things that are going right.<br /><br />trust and acknowledge and <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/solvitur%20ambulando">solvitur ambulando</a>.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-78075138984925519912009-06-09T23:25:00.013-07:002010-01-19T22:14:16.145-08:00Day 394: amenthere's an old brewhouse of brick and tall windows downtown by the river. <a href="http://wallblank.com/">wallblank.com</a> operates from here and i was there tonight again with my friend shawn, the site's owner and curator. turns out the building itself is bigger than i ever imagined and is filled with awesome creative spaces and vintage signs and mechanisms and one dusty old piano. i'm hoping to go back within a day or two to do some major photography work.<br /><br />speaking of which, some of my photography was featured by a seattle band. check out garage voice's site <a href="http://garagevoice.com/2009/06/joe-lieske-for-gv/">here</a>.<br /><br />and i might have found a happy balance for employment and purpose. looks like i'll be starting a new position at my old sporting goods store in town to become a bike and snowboard technician. coming back to this place hasn't been as bad as i had feared it could have been. not bad at all, actually.<br /><br />thanks so much for being a big part of everything that's happened on vancouver island, vancouver, seattle, fernie, montana, maple ridge, portland, and the ten thousand miles of road in between these places.<br /><br />this is the end of the daily text version of the vagabonded raconteur. for now, at least. i promise nothing is going to change in real life. who knows, there may even be some short-term adventuring on the horizon already. but as for day-to-day, well, i've got to haul in the reigns of blogging so that i can refocus and concentrate on a few other aspects of development.<br /><br />there's a column down a bit on the right side of the page that highlights certain portions of all this. i'll clean it up and make it a little more complete for you to review if you feel at a loss tomorrow morning. i'm probably going to feel at a loss tomorrow at midnight when, for the first time in three hundred ninety-four nights, i will not post.<br /><br />here are two of my favorites right off the bat:<br /><br /><a href="http://vagabondedslurpee.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-365.html">day 365: one year</a><br /><br /><a href="http://vagabondedslurpee.blogspot.com/2009/01/day-238.html">day 238: thanks</a><br /><br />and i've been gifted a flickr pro account, so i'll definitely be using that more often. you can see that grow <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joelieske/">here</a>.<br /><br /><br /><br />finally here are my goals, for i have long forsaken the pressures of plans and twisting of time:<br /><br />- continue learning, using, and networking music, photography, writing, and video.<br />- become a certified bicycle and snowboard technician.<br />- work.<br />- keep the perspective and momentum that has resulted through all this.<br />- be ready for anything to happen next.<br />- always, always, always continue to trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understandings. acknowledge Him in everything and allow these paths to continue to be directed.<br /><br /><br />thank you family, thank you friends, and thank you God for the opportunity, adventure, and life that has now become ALL THIS.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-4521391883287032192009-06-08T23:10:00.007-07:002009-06-13T13:05:29.469-07:00Day 393: the appendixesi could be on the road right now. today felt like a day in a <a href="http://vagabondedslurpee.blogspot.com/2009/01/day-247.html">fernie</a> or <a href="http://vagabondedslurpee.blogspot.com/2009/04/day-350.html">portland</a> coffee shop- the flow and the timing and momentum are alive in this place.<br /><br />yesterday was filled with questions of plans and next steps. i never know how to answer these questions anymore and i'm happy to tell people that i'm waiting to see how things move from here. it's what i'm used to. faith and trust.<br /><br />today things moved.<br /><br />i stopped in at the sporting goods store that i used to work at and visited my friend and manager. i was also looking for employment, but we didn't get to discussing that for a while. a re-interview is scheduled for tomorrow.<br /><br />on the way out i ran into the girl who i'd started shooting weddings with last year. apparently there's some this summer and we're going to get in touch.<br /><br />i dropped a black garbage bag of clothes at plato's closet consignment shop in the spirit of simplification and the thrifty pursuit of some cash. starbucks is right across the parking lot and i headed over to kill some time and read. there i recognized a prolific rockford area video producer. after some discussion and common acquaintance acknowledgements we traded contact info and reminisced free juno email and classic dial up service. good vibe.<br /><br />moments later the bearded guy behind me spoke up over his laptop to ask about my book (the one mentioned yesterday). we started talking about writing and travels and, in the end, exchanged info and he offered a gig to write a hitch hiking article for his online <a href="http://wunderkammermag.com/">magazine</a> of which i'd read before. when i finally pushed my chair against the table during final goodbyes he said he was glad to have met someone like me in rockford. man, you too. you too.<br /><br />photography. video. writing potentials. boom, boom, boom.<br /><br />to be honest i was a little worried that coming home would result in a fading of the pursuit of these honest interests to the necessity of practical means and jobs and routines. also until today i felt that time was ticking here. now, i'm not so sure.<br /><br />more acknowledging and more steps are happening in this place.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-78345117914089326182009-06-07T20:46:00.009-07:002009-06-07T21:35:09.558-07:00Day 392: the appendixeshey, if you're checking this blog out today for the first time there's a little bar of titled links down on the right a bit. it may help.<br /><br />i'm not sure why but i'm having trouble concentrating on writing from my house. i stopped by borders this afternoon to use a coupon on a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Telling-True-Stories-Nonfiction-Foundation/dp/0452287553">book</a> and grab a coffee and had written a post for tonight in my mind while driving to the barn for college group. now, though, i can't remember much. i really need a tiny tape recorder. i'm looking for one tomorrow after disappearing to read.<br /><br />today was sweet and i'm now starting to have to pay attention to whom will become the focused audience of these posts. i want to keep it public and understandable for the world. that might get harder as 'home' places and people start to grow back into what had been all this, but this is a valuable and sweet continuation, so let it be.<br /><br />but after sharing parts of this adventure's story and spiritual lessons in an adult sunday school class this morning and at our college group meeting tonight at the old barn i'm finding much contentment and peace in the wrapping up the lessons and provisions of every day that trails this post.<br /><br /><br /><br />acknowledging and having paths directed is continuing here in this place.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-15266865800486849162009-06-06T21:42:00.004-07:002009-06-06T22:12:16.022-07:00Day 391: the appendixespeel clothes from sweat adhesive. shower. apply denim and flannel. insert coffee. let sit for two hours minimum. ding.<br /><br />this is the solution after a good ten hours of work and out-and-aboutness. look at that, busyness already. what is happening to me?<br /><br /><br />also, i have a confession.<br /><br />i'm at a starbucks. i come forward to say this only because all other chains and northern illinois 'coffee places' (all three of them) are closed or are otherwise preparing for a night of flipping big macs or where waitresses are strapping on aprons and clearing throats for calling you 'honey' as they serve up country fried steak platters.<br /><br />so i'm at a table and can't remember what motif this particular shop is arranged after. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Starbucked-Double-Caffeine-Commerce-Culture/dp/031601348X">starbucked</a> explains it all. but two families at the counter have just vaguely recognized each other as neighbors or past neighbors or friends of past neighbors. they don't seem too sure and this provides enough humor to externally bypass the awkwardness. besides, everyone in each family has a white cup in their hands. cool points go all around. they now part, each clan reciprocating that 'it was good seeing each again' even though fifteen seconds ago they were grinning under desperate glances. they're gone now.<br /><br />another interesting conversation is floating over. two guys are determined to figure out life- tonight, if possible. the one with dark hair in an american eagle polo is doing the talking. he wants a motorcycle. doesn't care if it won't go over 55 mph. but he's also thinking about nursing school and more college. maybe in arizona. or going to disney land? he says he doesn't like the big city but would live in one so that he could drive away from it.<br /><br /><br />have you heard the stereotype for a midwesterner? i've been noticing basic over-reactions and an overall uptightness a little bit lately. nothing bad. sure you get every kind of person everywhere but i can see the truth to these sociological patterns of geography. am-i-talkingtoofast,too?<br /><br /><br />i found a sweet latin phrase online tonight.<br /><br /> solvitur ambulando. 'it is solved by walking' "suggests that some problems are [made clear] only as one goes forward in practical action."<br /><br />ambulando on, man.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-23474100837347291922009-06-05T19:46:00.003-07:002009-06-05T20:49:26.642-07:00Day 390: the appendixeshere we are.<br /><br />if you've been able to keep a track of the vagabond momentum then remember that today has been one week back in this place.<br /><br />and i'm really not too convinced about the significance for marks of time like 'one year' or 'one week.' here or there. they happen and are observed but i'm not sure that anything exceptional has happened on these benchmark timetables.<br /><br />this may as well be my third week back. then again, it feels like i may have never left. but i've found that i've stopped looking for the mountains and i don't try to plan a weekend around a hitch hike adventure to the beach. this means that i'm getting back into the midwest mindset. hm.<br /><br /><br />i've got to admit that i thought i was still keeping this up this blog because of the messages and inquiries about the future status of the vagabonded raconteur. and i am. but it's also kind of hard to stop. especially when everything that is 'home' is being seen in a new light.<br /><br />i was thinking today how constantly having a camera whilst moving from place to place has the foundation and continual redefining of photographic perspective in a way i never could have otherwise understood. same for certain books and reading. music too.<br /><br />but i'm working on revitalizing my <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/joelieske/">flickr account</a>. maybe check it out. work in progress.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-39740482515638339512009-06-04T23:11:00.003-07:002009-06-04T23:14:44.668-07:00Day 389: the appendixesi'm trying to get in shape physically and photographically.<br /><br />my flickr should be revitalized, cleaned up, and updated within a few days and i'm gonna keep going to the ymca. i'll keep you posted.<br /><br /><br />until then.<br /><br />click<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmD1Abs2eO6lG2yqX2765ppATJ6cGo8Ib6blEZymwnMcFP7_3m4pG2GfsEVnYPTA15qEj8PcfUXQYQ3zioz89nUe9B5Xel9L2Mlphxmey9ngTT4N9k1spjHVACYxerAaHy5gE4LYCxA8E/s1600-h/brew+(1+of+1).jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmD1Abs2eO6lG2yqX2765ppATJ6cGo8Ib6blEZymwnMcFP7_3m4pG2GfsEVnYPTA15qEj8PcfUXQYQ3zioz89nUe9B5Xel9L2Mlphxmey9ngTT4N9k1spjHVACYxerAaHy5gE4LYCxA8E/s200/brew+(1+of+1).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343722708579266322" /></a>the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-46221497924312739152009-06-03T21:28:00.005-07:002009-06-03T23:13:23.395-07:00Day 388: the appendixesi'm in the cafe at borders and there are two young business kids behind me. the girl, twenty-four maybe, works corporate sponsorship deals for mlb stadiums. the baby face, gel jet-black-bang boy is maybe early twenties in his suit and works with his uncle as a broker and, he's ready to add, investment and now insurance consultant. he says that he doesn't read books nor drink coffee. he likes water and baseball instead. they're talking about business and flying around the country and connecting flights and hotels and not getting much a chance for going out- an event that happens maybe once a month. they sound awfully important to each other.<br /><br />this might be a perfect first date with no signs of nervousness. they are introducing themselves as if it were a blind date. there are no usual insecurities, however. no false starts and no stammers. these kids are conference-call toned with self affirmations of purpose and potential.<br /><br />and after forty minutes they split, passing- it seems to me- like two yachts in the night.<br /><br />i keep reading and am left without a clue for what has just happened behind my shoulders and under my ears.<br /><br /><br />and this is much later at <a href="http://wallblank.com/">wall blank</a> headquarters. a chill environment to be certain.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7p3YhKzZGK2XxiqjIP3er2tWhoQyjL6xjXpbqJIXpHIxb-j_4j2XCd3oH9MrYh70c6NAtdqM6hKveg8RVlWlBQKOTcEHLXwG4wuaPibYRE59pMV1MVMl-Es0IDFEdHqsFCuaoai4t_A/s1600-h/Photo+195.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7p3YhKzZGK2XxiqjIP3er2tWhoQyjL6xjXpbqJIXpHIxb-j_4j2XCd3oH9MrYh70c6NAtdqM6hKveg8RVlWlBQKOTcEHLXwG4wuaPibYRE59pMV1MVMl-Es0IDFEdHqsFCuaoai4t_A/s200/Photo+195.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343327710574873906" /></a>the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-80023475240017828982009-06-02T20:07:00.002-07:002009-06-02T20:38:25.376-07:00Day 387: the appendixesi miss outside. and not just the car-to-building-and-back walk or the here-to-there drive with the windows down. i miss sleeping and chilling and strumming and reading outside and riding bikes to get places (outside) where you might decide that the day is worth spending. outside.<br /><br />but this is no lament. life's just different here.<br /><br />i don't trust drivers on the road. and maybe i do like to use one sentence thoughts and answers. and in the light of this nuance of different geographical perspectives i'm still trying to retain goals instead of making plans. i'd rather earn friendships and responsibilities and daily means instead of immediately working for a busy paycheck. that's hard to explain sometimes.<br /><br /><br />i'm taking a step back, here, for a bigger perspective. an arial. in doing so i find some excitement and contentment on what is and could be happening around here. there's so much potential for peer development, art growth, musical cohesion, and revitalized community.<br /><br />i haven't said much yet. maybe a sentence or two. but i'm paying attention to what's happening here and comparing it to what had been known as all this just four days ago.<br /><br />maybe soon we should speak.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-18599216269843721002009-06-01T18:48:00.003-07:002009-06-02T14:50:46.152-07:00Day 386: the appendixesthere's all this land here in the midwest and it gives us space for our favorite things like growing corn and baseball and the building of many buildings and sandlots so that they will come. it also gives me the feeling of security for the holding of my junk and, although i'm sure there are pack rats and stuff collectors everywhere, i think that the absence of mountains and oceans do not help in reminding me that there's more to life than pockets and drawers and where there is to drive to and from. i've got my stuff on my mind and my mind on my stuff and there's too much of it. way too much.<br /><br />and it hits me now that i'm back in my most established bedroom and am opening closets and shelves and boxes and finding that i have as much clothes as we combined seven travelers did during our five winter months in fernie. this is way too much.<br /><br />it's disgusting, too, to fish through so many t shirts and sweaters and things that i've never worn. the combined 'high school sports' and 'missions trips' t-shirt piles already outweigh the amount of shirts i had on the road. over the past couple days i've noticed that i'm still wearing what i had with me over the past year from my backpack or rolling duffle. really, i want to keep it that way.<br /><br />my goal is to eliminate eighty percent over the next couple weeks. let's have a garage sale.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-88918040168187109182009-05-31T20:54:00.013-07:002009-06-01T17:17:19.725-07:00Day 385: the appendixeselton john's song 'rocket man' has been stuck in my head all day and i haven't yet determined what exactly i want to make of life back here.<br /><br />i drove with this tune to church this morning excited about seeing so many long lost faces again. it turns out that i was the long lost face and some even claimed to have not recognized me at first. almost everyone offered hooking me up with a razor to which i politely affirmed that i already have one. i have a few, actually. dusty, and probably rusted by now too.<br /><br />i'm definitely looking forward to start meeting with friends for dinners and coffee and lunches. let's do it soon, i'm currently unemployed!<br /><br /><br />most everything in the city seems physically normal except for maybe a new walgreens or some flashy corner market. but there's a new energy in seeing and relating with people. this morning was a blast. then there was an afternoon of badminton and chilling with friends and then a solo drive along a massive, midwest sunset. however it's impossible to forget about the sun's final resting spot at the <a href="http://vagabondedslurpee.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-369.html">edge of america</a>.<br /><br />i hadn't driven since my license expired in late february and now i was on the highway for the first time since and controlling my own momentum underfoot. i went through my old neighborhood and past the lawns of my old customers and past the high school and college. everything looks the same and still everything is different to me. the little camera in my mind is taking pictures all around town. fresh eyes.<br /><br />by the way, i've got just over one month to get into shape for a pitching tryout with the mlb. i'm going hair and all- despite all heavily assumed standards.<br /><br /><br />here we are<br /><br />devil's lake fall 2006?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNEgu6jM_3bSOo8BRkhOS2VNraeFX2KItSyHL1mb78rRP8oJN-5J7W-kDqEt35YDknIScKg8bDPoh1GcflCbMU8rYEcpapVbWZg_n-wSosTUd4tsYNveyN7YNKv9u4IOPxfOmQ_EJQ250/s1600-h/n200802491_30256080_2422.jpg"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNEgu6jM_3bSOo8BRkhOS2VNraeFX2KItSyHL1mb78rRP8oJN-5J7W-kDqEt35YDknIScKg8bDPoh1GcflCbMU8rYEcpapVbWZg_n-wSosTUd4tsYNveyN7YNKv9u4IOPxfOmQ_EJQ250/s200/n200802491_30256080_2422.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342226523991892786" /></a><br /><br />devil's lake fall 2007?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNxME8SZdrW1weD3XhrNsc9fIcIztm2JyKVoAy7rKm-bRQH4ZIpQYUF7q5pzV594r6GJfjUayRCPxrvlbUu3E-Pqz5WCheN0wI1IJumVB47rl2Km5wBKv2ejHz52WGVhNGTxwNAB1y0rs/s1600-h/101_2714.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNxME8SZdrW1weD3XhrNsc9fIcIztm2JyKVoAy7rKm-bRQH4ZIpQYUF7q5pzV594r6GJfjUayRCPxrvlbUu3E-Pqz5WCheN0wI1IJumVB47rl2Km5wBKv2ejHz52WGVhNGTxwNAB1y0rs/s200/101_2714.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342219041770996194" /></a><br /><br />and rock cut state park yesterday<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN5OO6ciWXDK5tFH4p1VjkXJOY-r8VHdr6AR5jw-yms9JVghT9KYk2zRse8b-boFoEDm50O915pHGjqW_RRp7CQAGY18OG2xMwty_cWoFGSgzhAWlzAGQ9EGehKXN81oViWOS1W-uaUY8/s1600-h/4182_515792397749_200802491_30639936_7575783_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN5OO6ciWXDK5tFH4p1VjkXJOY-r8VHdr6AR5jw-yms9JVghT9KYk2zRse8b-boFoEDm50O915pHGjqW_RRp7CQAGY18OG2xMwty_cWoFGSgzhAWlzAGQ9EGehKXN81oViWOS1W-uaUY8/s200/4182_515792397749_200802491_30639936_7575783_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342219048799679778" /></a>the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-15536996137678609022009-05-30T21:34:00.007-07:002009-06-16T12:25:25.530-07:00Day 384: the appendixesmaybe doing something for three hundred eight-three days is a hard thing to stop on the dime no matter what the day or occasion. especially when i feel that nothing has really ended. i also appreciate the messages asking about the future of the blog. i leave that up to you under two conditions: there must be something relevant to be said about the transition to familiar life here and there's gotta be someone who wants to read them.<br /><br />i am home though. and tomorrow i'll go to my home church and see a bunch of people who i've missed and who maybe have missed me. i'm kind of excited and am hoping that it'll be worth recounting.<br /><br />today after the montana friends had left for their chicago wedding i met up with two of my best friends here in rockford and we went on a bike ride through the state park. i miss biking and it reminded me of portland. now a few of us have cooked out and shawn's front porch reminds me of portland. the big dipper does too, although i've watched the stars many times recently from various shores and mountains and cities and rooftops.<br /><br />but enough about places. the only place i am for now is home. and i'm starting to see that, not surprisingly, not much has changed but most of all i'm starting to feel that there's never going to be short-answer justice done for the questions on what has happened. but that's okay, i guess, because i figured that this would be the case <a href="http://vagabondedslurpee.blogspot.com/2009/01/day-238.html">a while ago</a>.<br /><br />but anyways, i'll be seeing more rockford people soon. tomorrow. and this week. and for the rest of you all over the world, well, keep a weathered eye on the horizon.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-1056626221824670452009-05-29T19:08:00.008-07:002010-01-19T22:20:59.600-08:00Day 383i'm at my kitchen table in the quiet hours that around here are usually always well before midnight. my laptop is sitting next to the well-traveled 'through painted deserts' (for those semi-forsaken but never forgotten nostalgic reasons of preconceived notion) and under both of these is an opened road map showing the coast-to-coast interstates of america. you know this map. it's the oft mentioned atlas purchased well over a year ago while i was holding dreams and desire for the pacific northwest.<br /><br /><br /><br />we descended the illinois border a few minutes before five o'clock this morning. the hazy mist of fresh light and damp corn fields started giving way to familiar sights. "trippy.. trippy. man" were about the only words i whispered to myself as forgotten landmarks and signs started to label home. maybe the four hours of sleep during the previous twenty-two straight had something to do with a lack of words as well.<br /><br />now i stared dumbfounded at the house- my house, beige and two stories and with a new car in the driveway that i didn't even recognize. but i knew my jeep. i shook her dew by the luggage racks and said hello. i went inside alone. my parents came downstairs. i kid and ask my mom if i can live here for a little while longer. everything inside looks normal and yet everything seems to deserve a glance of greeting. this is happening... i'm really back after all that happened... hey, look, a coherent dish and silverware collection (no more eclectic thrift store combos) and exceptionally soft carpet (no more gnarly winter carpet or squeaky wood floors). wow, i really like my house. hey, my guitar. breakfast. etc.<br /><br />my mom cooks breakfast for all of us and we sit around the table introducing and eating and telling road trip stories.<br /><br />here two worlds have connected between two years and points of two thousand miles. but in the veins my one being i find incredible satisfaction and BALANCE in this manner of return. to me- because these infamous (if you've read this blog every day) montana friends are here in my house- there is no end.<br /><br />tonight two of those three original montana girls are staying over along with the two other friends who had caravaned to rockford. after breakfast they had driven to pick up another from the airport and to spend the afternoon checking out chicago. i went to my seventeen year old brother's regional pitching start. he dominated while being watched by scouts and colleges and reporters alike.<br /><br />much later, after dinner and cake and hanging out with these relocated friends and rediscovered family, there is a jam session with all of us in the front room. my family acknowledges this return of music. is this really happening?<br /><br />tomorrow they will head back to the big city and their wedding destination and then will hit the road west. tomorrow i will stay home and meet my local friends. but tonight, right now in this last minute midnight, i have with me some of the very friends of the memories and excitement and adventures that has become all this. they're here in the house i once left for a place where no one knew my name and i'm sitting in the kitchen where i'd once stood and held my arms out in frustration and excitement to try to explain that i was headed to vancouver island to do video work at a camp for the summer and that i felt there might be more to follow.<br /><br />this doesn't feel like an end at all. to be honest,<br /><br />i don't think there is ever going to be an end<br /><br />to the kind of life<br /><br />for what has become<br /><br />all<br /><br />thisthe vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-65667492884063127612009-05-28T22:11:00.003-07:002009-12-13T13:41:35.663-08:00Day 382a faint, pastel sunrise begins to glow after a couple hours of driving through the staggering murky peaks of glacier national park. soon horses and cows dot alternating green and yellow pastures that plane and roll endlessly in all directions under the creeping orange of daylight. small, crusty towns like browning, montana, punctuate these long stretches of highway with clusters of mobile homes and old pickup trucks and maybe a wooden saloon and the red neon lights of motel or two. this is the WILD WEST- the space, the sky, the sunrise, and the mountains.<br /><br />by the time we get lunch in the badlands we have been on the road for nine hours. these sluggish tourist traps that hang amidst snarling cliffs will also soon fade harmlessly past our windows. we're cruising up to fargo, north dakota, and might need to get more gas and coffee. soon the air smells like mowed grass and blossoming trees and asphalt at minnesota's first rest stop and i find that i miss the salty air of that last night in seattle and even the mild portland breeze. a grey glaze of midwest clouds accompanies another time change. we're picking up someone else in minneapolis and four-strong (melody, her friend adam, and another yet-to-be-introduced friend are heading to chicago for a wedding) we will charge into another midnight and across another highway and county and community of star-sleeping america.<br /><br /><br />this is almost it. a long time ago i'd taken certain songs and books maybe too seriously and had badly wanted to go somewhere where no one knew my name. now here has been lived the long-dreamed opportunities for the life always wanted and which has since unfolded in a way i could have never ever, ever, ever imagined, given to me through acknowledgements of faith and risk and relationships and trusting and the taking and directing of these small steps. even right this second there's a passing white billboard with green print that simply says, 'be grateful.' don't worry, sign. i am.<br /><br />and now as i count miles and subtract hours i also wonder<br /><br />what is my responsibility in returning from all this?<br /><br /><br />i prepare to return to illinois with my palms nearly as empty as when i'd left three hundred and eighty-two days ago with no bank account and four hundred dollars cash in pocket. but my heart is full and excited and my head maybe just as inspired and, if nothing else, i feel more alive and content and spiritually aware and rationally relational because of this specific rubbing of time and people and places and through the continual seeking of wisdom and stature with both God and man. i don't think that life is ever going to be the same- but i don't care if it is or isn't or will or won't because, nonetheless, this life has remained life in its daily, unfolding manner and i hope that i've made the most of it. i think i have.<br /><br />the plan then is this- to pray, to love, and to keep trying to do the right thing and hopefully inspire the next guy to do the same. help me?<br /><br />thank you for both physically and vicariously staying with me and being a part of this adventure. i mean it. i never expected that a one-way flight to vancouver could turn into so much (i bet that the canadian border patrol wouldn't have ever guessed that either, but we're cool). even on the very first day (with a now infamous slurpee in hand) i could feel reason and purpose for starting to write and observe. now the momentum and people and places has continued to grow and build and connect and it's all coming back home.<br /><br />what else is there to say.<br /><br />thank you family. thank you new and old friends. thank you God.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-25681722706946085622009-05-27T21:07:00.010-07:002009-11-24T16:28:15.880-08:00Day 381a shower and a decent breakfast are awesome. it's been a while since either and i was almost starting to get tired of smelling like a lumber yard and feeling like survivorman. but there's something to be said about the joy of being unrubbed. i'm clean and calm now in this montana coffee shop but i realize that i felt especially sharp and aware and happy while wearing dust. maybe this is the reason certain smart kids in junior and senior high school never shower. that and the grimy mustache might have been a big part of the reason they seemed so advanced. the metamorphosis is complete. try it.<br /><br /><br />here it is. the list. this isn't the last post but i've got other things planned for the next few days. over the past few weeks i've started trying to recall the names and events of the ways that God has provided over the past year. it's impossible to draw the line and thank everyone by name and i'll probably be adding more connections but this will at least give you an idea on how things have progressed thus far. thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.<br /><br /><br />:the list:<br /><br />shawn kelley, rockford illinois; tells me about qwanoes.<br /><br />maywood missions committee pays transportation costs to vancouver island (and provided return fare which will be used soon).<br /><br />mom and dad; rockford, illinois, let me go without either of our understanding my ''feeling for something more afterwards.''<br /><br />dan and sherry bader, surrey, bc; give ride (and lunch) from airport to ferry<br /><br />qwanoes roommates tyler, matt, brendan.<br /><br />russ smith; nick and ryan rest of video crew.<br /><br />shaun, paul, tim became new, good friends at camp.<br /><br />dave clark and his car<br /><br />wesley dong, the camp cook who would leave late night packages of food in the fridge marked 'for joe and friends.'<br /><br />kirk anderson and family. epic breakfast. host shaun, paul, and i for the three days off midsummer vacation.<br /><br />kent anderson. gives fernie tips. former professor to pastor shawn barden.<br /><br />parker gohrick. a brother.<br /><br />ken and gail gohrick. house. work. wisdom. second family.<br /><br />sarah and chuck are our couchsurfing.com hookup during a weekend in portland.<br /><br />eric able to bring me my snowboard gear from home on his way through washington to kaleo bible school.<br /><br />shawn kelley's friend dillon picks me up after initial border rejection, offers place to stay.<br /><br />kirk anderson. lunch in usa and stay at his house after getting through border.<br /><br />shawn, danielle, dan, and sherry. night and dinner with them in surrey.<br /><br />andrew and adam. load car and drive to fernie.<br /><br />andrew's parent's frequent flyer miles that gave us two free nights at the best western.<br /><br />fernie fellowship baptist church. pastor shawn barden.<br /><br />marion offers janitor job during announcements and i get position and paperwork.<br /><br />jeremy and jesse offer temporary stay until we move into our place.<br /><br />veronica gives me one-way lift to cranbrook for s.i.n. number.<br /><br />the first hitchhiking experience of what would become many scores a ride with alex on the way back to fernie.<br /><br />jeremy, jesse, scott, and jez for sharing their house and helping us get adjusted in town.<br /><br />housemates and friends tim, tyler, jon, shaun, adam, and paul for their stellar and unique personalities and community.<br /><br />shauntelle puts fifty dollars in my palm a couple sundays later explaining that her blessing have become mine. so clutch.<br /><br />randi gives me thirty dollars in grocery cards for my birthday.<br /><br />tim gives book and twenty bones for bday.<br /><br />bethany franck and family hosts our house for christmas eve and her father says that 'he would hope someone would do the same for his child if they were away from home for christmas.'<br /><br />ian becomes friend and was always generous and kind to everyone.<br /><br />the tea house partnership for weekend music in exchange for free coffee and that day's tips. pays groceries.<br /><br />scott hooks me up with two days jackhammering work at the resort.<br /><br />scott helps me get piano gig at 4.5 star resort via hotel owners.<br /><br />montana girls melanie and melody and jenna are introduced at a birthday party in whitefish.<br /><br />melanie lends me her keyboard and monitor for the winter.<br /><br />the montana three show ultimate kindness and generosity every time we came down to visit or snowboard.<br /><br />bob at the pawn shop sells me accordion for one hundred fifty bones. our band starts soon after because of accordion and mel's piano.<br /><br />jeremy, ian, dion, and i get weekend gigs where we play shows for ski bums, locals, and friends. church janitor job provides key and access to practice space and gear.<br /><br />jeni offers me clutch events volunteer job that gives me free ski pass. would have hardly been able to ride if not for this.<br /><br />tyler lends me one of his extra snowboards for the winter after mine breaks.<br /><br />keith from guild invites me to writer's workshop.<br /><br />jerri at mug shots hooks up coffee and chocolate milk at the coffee shop and teaches a unique appreciation of the english accent.<br /><br />bruce and snowboarders for christ let me sleep in sfc house the last night in town.<br /><br />crystal gives ride from fernie to kelowna at end of march.<br /><br />karen's kindness and hospitality will never be forgotten in kelowna.<br /><br />tyler offers two week stay with him in maple ridge near vancouver.<br /><br />stu, wendy, and jesse wilson.<br /><br />stu is super cool.<br /><br />wendy is super cool.<br /><br />jesse is super cool ten year old.<br /><br />video guy ryan from summer and i meet up in vancouver and offers stay at his place.<br /><br />phil picks tyler and i up once on the island.<br /><br />eric and his family take my winter gear back home and drop me at ferry in victoria bound for port angeles, washington. leaving canada.<br /><br />glen and andrea pick up my hitchhiking self and take me as far as poulsbo, washington.<br /><br />gail gohrick picks me up at a ferry.<br /><br />ken gives me a few days of work and asks me to speak at youth group. good connections.<br /><br />parker comes back and we head into seattle.<br /><br />jeremy lets us crash at his place.<br /><br />parker, andy, cole, robert, todd, and jason welcome me into their house and i sleep on the front porch couch in portland for the month.<br /><br />parker hooks me up with bike for pdx transportation.<br /><br />craig and son spencer give me a hitch from cannon beach to portland and turn out to be christians with much in common.<br /><br />ken gives parker, me, and robert a couple day's work at his house in washington. and more awesome food.<br /><br />ian, nate, melody, and jeremy pick me up in seattle for sasquatch music festival at the gorge.<br /><br />melody and parents provide breakfast and much needed shower.<br /><br />melody, adam, and amy become the ride to illinois on their way to a wedding in chicago. perfect timing.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-34275874376776451202009-05-26T17:50:00.008-07:002009-05-27T14:23:32.465-07:00Day 380the highway opens into short green alfalfa fields and rows of manicured grape vines and brown dusty rows of plowed soil and i start to realize that nothing is really happening now that we've left our camping spot in the dusty grass. this van-hyped road trip is just miles until suddenly the momentum of speed and moving and friends shifts in my mind to thinking that anything can happen and had happened and is happening right now. add some tunes to the understanding that anything else is possible and that you're in a car with friends and books and the road trip vibe is suddenly alive and well.<br /><br />we are all also amazed and proud of ourselves that none of us smell bad for having not showered in several days. at least we think so. now, after much driving, i have a surprise. <br /><br />i am back in fernie, bc, canada.<br /><br />i never expected this, really, and it's kind of trippy to suddenly come back in a brand new season after having closed this chapter in my mind just about two months ago. but ian and nate and melody had left from here for the festival and this is where her car is so we're back to grab the vehicle and head down to montana. nate has also given me one of his recently cut dreads as a remembrance present. i'm going to use it as a bookmark.<br /><br />fernie is just as beautiful in the late spring as it was in the late fall. i went to the organic market for coffee and to say hey to the owners. classic. and there's someone new living in our house, although i didn't care to go see the flat.<br /><br />this geographic symmetry is awesome. i never thought i'd be back so soon, albeit for a couple hours. some of us are headed for montana tonight.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-48988468404533037262009-05-25T17:43:00.008-07:002009-05-26T18:30:24.978-07:00Day 379over a year ago i had to write a twelve page, final research paper on bigfoot for a college english course. it almost killed me. think about writing four or five pages on proving or disproving sasquatch. now triple that amount. man, it was bad. but my classmates and i had joked about skipping class and flying to washington to find him ourselves and avoiding the drudgery of debunking the mystical creature. ironically, then, i'm now able to say i found sasquatch. in washington. he exists in the form of thousands of people (mostly hippies) camping next to a vineyard and attending a three day music festival at the edge of a massive gorge. <a href="http://www.sasquatchfestival.com/lineup/monday">the sasquatch music festival</a>.<br /><br />the third and main stage is backed against a massive valley where a blue river cuts through the gorge. euphoric beauty. the crowd faces the stage in a colosseum-style seating of escalating levels of grass berms elevated by rocky ledges. almost like switchbacks except they're parallel and grassy.<br /><br />i got the set list from one of my favorite bands blitzen trapper. the fleet foxes were stellar. ben harper was the closing act and played with the passion of a man counting grains of sand whilst sucking an entire lemon. that's the only way i can describe the intenseness. there were so many other good bands and i'm kind of disappointed that i only went to the last day. such a good time.<br /><br />i've got a surprise for tomorrow.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-53136881192185970422009-05-24T17:34:00.002-07:002009-05-26T17:43:32.050-07:00Day 378turns out i didn't have internet for more than just one day. i can explain. <br /><br />we left parker's house and headed for downtown seattle where melody, ian, nate, and jeremy were going to meet and pick me up on. remember that old <a href="http://vagabondedslurpee.blogspot.com/2009/04/day-348.html">dick's burger diner</a> from a month ago? parker, robert, and i headed there, said our goodbyes, and they dropped me off so that they could get back to portland. i waited under the shade of the side of the building with my backpack and rolling bag and with a milkshake until ian's familiar maroon windstar cruised into the parking lot not even an hour later. fernie reunion.<br /><br />ian's a good dude but this australian did not have my confidence in his driving abilities. at least not when we started off this afternoon. while on a one-way, he decides to pull a u-turn to get back to the flow of traffic, all the while cars are honking and he's getting angry exclaiming that 'there are no one ways' in his hometown in australia.'<br /><br />the five of us wandered pike place market for a bit and saw a sign for mar's hill church. we went to the downtown campus and sat in the second half of the service (none of us had gone to church in the morning). the church looked like a trendy furniture store or maybe an urban outfitters but i met some cool people who answered my questions about mark driscoll's ministry. as brent and i talked we (once again for me) found similarity in the 'west coast is my mecca' trend. he was from iowa. but we talked about all this and about his journey and the over-clicheness it has become to 'go out to find yourself'. he jokingly asked if i'd found myself on my trip and i laughed, saying that i think i had a long time ago. i don't think i've ever left myself since. all that jazz. he told me about the ministry in seattle- to which some have apparently nicknamed free-attle, since churches in places like denver give homeless bus tickets to seattle. people really do want to seem to appear to be trying to be caring about loving other people and making a difference in the name of Jesus. that is huge in the pac north. no doubt.<br /><br />still, our crew was a sight to see. ian, in hs faded jeans and crumpled flannel a, had gotten a special 'haircut' that turned out to be a buzz except for three patches at the front, middle, and down the back of his head. they're not connected and definitely not a mohawk because they're not even all going the same direction. he looks crazy. nate cut most of his 4 years of dreads off except for a clump of strands in the back. an ultimate mullet. i just wore a bandana as has become usual and an undershirt-free flannel shirt. i was elated, then, when a passerby on the sidewalk cursed us 'hippies'. yes, we are. but sadly we'd seen this guy in the church service a little bit earlier where we'd all left after a sermon about loving people even if they're different. nice. we were definitely different today. ian looked homeless and crazy and i'm surprised we got served at a nice, waterside restaurant who's happy hour menu was significantly cheap.<br /><br />we head back to central washington tonight to camp in preparation for tomorrow's full day at the sasquatch music festival at the gorge.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-29464413575233183812009-05-23T23:21:00.006-07:002009-05-24T11:14:36.804-07:00Day 377another sunny day and eight-plus hours of work. feels good to be so tired.<br /><br />steak, hamburgers, hotdogs, bbq chicken. we sat around with this family of whom has really become a strong second or third to me. we were outside for hours, literally, eating and chilling and telling stories well after the big dipper had hung its ladle in a black sky and the frogs where chirping lullabies up and down the lakeshore.<br /><br />the first edition of these few following lines were once used in a wallblank.com print. that would have been months ago by now but for some reason the words came back to me today. it was something about being cared for more than birds.<br /><br /><br /><br />not coins or fear or what bothered me before<br />if i am faithful, i am more.<br /><br />birds on wire never forgotten<br />and if my own heart were mine, if i were still rotten<br /><br />i'd find no peace in what i've dreamed.<br />but because these birds fly and are always seen, i have life. i can be free.<br /><br /><br /><br />p.s. i may not have internet tomorrow night. we'll see what happens.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-51829774216199049202009-05-22T22:04:00.002-07:002009-05-22T23:30:27.171-07:00Day 376it's a little strange sleeping inside again. there were only five times while in portland that i wasn't either sleeping outside on the front porch couch or beach side during the cannon beach trek. even weirder still is that i've returned for the third time in the past year to 'my room' with the gohricks in washington. i literally keep work shoes here for these moments. so convenient.<br /><br />we worked over eight hours in the sun wheelbarrowing and pouring concrete, moving mulch, and doing landscaping. we've got one more full day tomorrow and me, parker, and robert are all thankful for the couple days' work provided.<br /><br />i love how the geographic cycle has been repeated in rhythmic symmetry. i spent almost two months here before going to fernie back in the fall and was here last month before going to portland. now we're back to work and i can feel the tide ebbing out again.<br /><br />there'll be some surprises over the next few days. paths. people. places.<br /><br />get ready.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-13196466897024392622009-05-21T01:34:00.006-07:002009-05-22T07:27:46.073-07:00Day 375hey thanks for checking out the blog if you're doing it for the first time after we may have met earlier tonight at the show. stay in touch.<br /><br />i've got to admit that i've flaked on sharing anything real for the past couple days. you might have noticed that. now after today i'm not sure i'll be able to make much sense of some important things but i'm going to try right now.<br /><br />i'd never expected to feel anything major when the time to leave portland would have come but now that i'm riding north on a dark highway 5 i find that i have something that feels like a small furry creature that's burrowing down at the base of my throat. actually it's not that bad. parker, friend robert, and i are heading to parker's parents to do a couple days' concrete work for his dad.<br /><br />but portland had long ago been a place in my mind that had seemed attractive because of what i'd read and heard from other people's distant and exciting lives. after settling into town few weeks ago i was confused by the incoherency of identity that i thought i noticed with people. but now that i'm leaving i feel like i've come to understand this collection of 'non-portlanders' in a totally different and foreign and familiar way than i ever had ever imagined a community could function. now i'm suddenly surprised to be pushing out from within a place that had such strange and distant priority to me so long ago. i've really grown to love the guys at the clinton house and the group of friends and the coffee shops and books and church and especially my blue one-speed cruiser bike, adele, with whom i had to break up with this afternoon. i won't go into detail but i can't say that she saw it coming and i thought she seemed particularly blue in her new, dark corner of the basement. i'm reminded of all these things as the green highway signs count down the miles to seattle.<br /><br />''maybe it's a sign that portland is the place for you,'' parker says and we play bon iver on the cd player and shoot through alternating patches of yellow light and black darkness in the flow of red tail lights.<br /><br />noah gundersen and a couple other bands were in town and played a gig at our house tonight. we've left right after the bands loaded their gear into their van.<br /><br />i'll edit this tomorrow. i'm looking forward to processing things during labor work the next couple days.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-7805479877279763132009-05-20T00:30:00.002-07:002009-05-21T00:43:56.253-07:00Day 374i'd written a whole different post at palio's this afternoon but got distracted while looking through old files. the following are old thoughts and i like them now more than ever because they've somehow found their way into what has become all this.<br /><br /><br />friday, april 18, 2008<br /><br />[to be free]<br /><br />bring to the shore the power of the ocean to forgive this mind of a selfish life<br />stand beneath the shadow of a mountain to be made small apart from my spiraling stride<br /><br />bind these eyes with the silky stillness that only stars of midnight give<br />shine through the wild with the deepest silence that man himself barely lets live<br /><br /><br />show me the beauty thats been twisted up in a lie<br />let unravel her mystery, breathing warmth from the sky<br />lift up my vision higher than your blind ever see<br />give me the life, to be free, that few longer believe.<br /><br /><br /><br />monday, january 14, 2008<br /><br />[semester 2]<br /><br />we have options. we have convenience. we have time. we have life.<br /><br />we have dreams. we have reasons. we have plans. we have plans.<br /><br />we are unified. we are distinguished. we are separate. we are whole.<br /><br />we are searching. we are finding. we are surprised. we are surprised.<br /><br /><br />in the rush of our fleeting youth and amidst the creation and exinction of relationships and the little parts of ourselves we try to hold together, i want more<br /><br />peace.<br /><br />balance.<br /><br />i will learn of and seek this during these days that now lead to warm weather.the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046058240950437276.post-53824634084765863942009-05-19T23:15:00.003-07:002009-05-20T00:41:01.552-07:00Day 373i've got some sweet news- there's a new photo on wallblank.com. by the time you read this it will probably have been yesterday's debut but it'll still be up.<br /><br /><a href="http://wallblank.com/products/373x7500">here's the print</a>. it's a simple shot and would be almost meaningless if not for the momentum and presence it represents. there's even a few words about it on the <a href="http://wallblank.com/blogs/writing-on-the-wall">wall blank blog</a>. i'm definitely stoked and humbled to be a part of this collaboration with wallblank.com.<br /><br />so maybe check things out a bit?the vagabonded raconteurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11417210456502516838noreply@blogger.com0