Day 393: the appendixes

i could be on the road right now. today felt like a day in a fernie or portland coffee shop- the flow and the timing and momentum are alive in this place.

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.

today things moved.

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.

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.

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.

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 magazine 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.

photography. video. writing potentials. boom, boom, boom.

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.

more acknowledging and more steps are happening in this place.

Day 392: the appendixes

hey, 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.

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 book 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.

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.

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.



acknowledging and having paths directed is continuing here in this place.

Day 391: the appendixes

peel clothes from sweat adhesive. shower. apply denim and flannel. insert coffee. let sit for two hours minimum. ding.

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?


also, i have a confession.

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.

so i'm at a table and can't remember what motif this particular shop is arranged after. starbucked 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.

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.


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?


i found a sweet latin phrase online tonight.

solvitur ambulando. 'it is solved by walking' "suggests that some problems are [made clear] only as one goes forward in practical action."

ambulando on, man.

Day 390: the appendixes

here we are.

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.

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.

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.


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.

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.

but i'm working on revitalizing my flickr account. maybe check it out. work in progress.

Day 389: the appendixes

i'm trying to get in shape physically and photographically.

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.


until then.

click

Day 388: the appendixes

i'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.

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.

and after forty minutes they split, passing- it seems to me- like two yachts in the night.

i keep reading and am left without a clue for what has just happened behind my shoulders and under my ears.


and this is much later at wall blank headquarters. a chill environment to be certain.

Day 387: the appendixes

i 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.

but this is no lament. life's just different here.

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.


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.

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.

maybe soon we should speak.

Day 386: the appendixes

there'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.

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.

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.

my goal is to eliminate eighty percent over the next couple weeks. let's have a garage sale.