We need the tonic of wilderness - to wade sometimes in the marshes where the bittern and the meadow hen lurk, and hear the booming of the snipe; to smell the whispering sedge where only some wild and more solitary fowl builds her nest, and the mink crawls with its belly close to the ground.
At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be infinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us, because they are unfathomable.
this entire year has found me in a constant series of accidental explorations. since the last time i really updated, i have been through costa rica, ohio, florida, the virgin islands, las vegas, big sur, san francisco, yosemite, denver, france, belgium, mexico, and the entire length of the united states (from north carolina to california) in a big hippie van filled with six creative beauties...
since the last time i wrote, i have hiked mountains and pyramids and city buildings and islands. i have slept in tents and cars and airports and bookstores and on strangers' floors all across america. I have flown on about 40 flights in 5 countries, and have driven/ridden upwards of 9,000 miles. i have cried over broken relationships, bonded with beautiful friends, and have fallen blissfully in love with the man of my dreams, in the most unlikely of places. i have been content and excited and filled with regret. i've been drunk and strong and helpless and incandescently happy and i don't even know where to begin.
friends have been asking me lately where in the world i am, and, "why haven't you been posting?" and, "when will you start writing again?"
well friends, i love you, and i am so thrilled that you want to hear my stories. but i have been mostly homeless and nomadic for about 5 months now...
after 3 months of living out of the van during our big road trip, my love and i escaped to vegas to decompress with family and retrieve my car. we then started our own road trip from vegas, up the pacific coast highway, to volunteer with a small off-the-grid community in southern oregon. we recently left the farm to attend His aunt's wedding in wine country, and now we are pet-sitting and playing house in san jose while the lovely newly-wed aunt is off on her honeymoon.
it's the strangest thing... to have lived out of a van all summer with 6 people, in a situation where we had very little money, and then none at all---where we had to play music on the streets for gas money, and sometimes dumpster dive for food, and always rely on the love of friends and strangers to put us up.
and now to be drinking a local pinot noir in a well-lit living room in silicone valley. my love is sitting near, writing a song on the guitar. the pets are lounging, happy in the sun. and we are reveling in the calm before the inevitable unrest of next week's homelessness.
where will this wild ride take us next?
at the end of this week, we will start making our way north again, through san francisco and portland, to finally settle in seattle.
because, to be totally honest, i am fucking exhausted. ever since this year began, i have been looking to stay put for a while and start building foundations in a new place. but costa rica was already planned. and creative work took me to the caribbean again. and serendipitous opportunities took me to california multiple times. and when a friend invites you to stay at their studio in montmarte or visit their mansion in ghent, how can you say no, right? and what if a friend insists you join in on the beatnik-style hippie-van-road-trip-across-america you've always been dreaming of? you sure as hell say YES.
so i said yes. and i fell in love. i learned to whistle and play the ukulele. i saw this country in a whole new light. and i wouldn't trade it for all the sleep in the world.
but now i'm ready. and he's ready. and we're headed to a home we've both been dreaming of since before we knew each other, even though it's not quite there yet.
because really, we have nothing... nothin' but the same clothes we've been living in all along, a few plants, a couple bags of food, a heap of books, and our instruments. we have one small car, and soon, it seems we'll be getting the van back.
it's going to be one of the most intense challenges so far, but i've got a handsome best friend and we are determined. in the end, it'll all have been worth it.
because, "life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all."