Midwest Quest...9/?-9/!

Sometimes I feel like I'm a 90 year old woman, other times I feel like 9 year old, carefree and craving constant attention. It's life. It's patience. It's practice. It's practicing patience. It's sharing thoughts and experiences and memories and ideas and hugs and kisses and sarcasm and toasts and successes and misfortunes. It's exercising your body and your rights. It's keeping in touch with people you love though letters and phone calls and this day in age, emails and online social networks and above all, keeping it all in perspective. It's doing what you love and making every day count, because, well, what else is there?

The sun showed its rays in Lincoln, NE. I felt it on my face and all the way to my bones. What a warm relief from spending the night in sub-zero temps, in Lawrence, KS. The weather wasn’t cold in Lawrence, but sadly, the artificial air in our kind hosts’ apartment made it feel like we were camping in the Himalayas. (With running water and electricity and fried chicken and soda pop).

The days are beginning to run together, which is not necessarily negative, by any means. And the northern leaves are changing into beautiful lovely patterns of paint by number pictures. The show in Kansas City was quaint and I reunited with my first Peace Corps friend since being on the road. It had been about 2 years since we last saw each other, which will be the case for most of the folks, and it was awesome to see her and catch up, even for just an evening. I know that’s something we’re all excited about-reconnecting with our friends that are sprinkled all around the country, like glitter that lands in your hair and only sparkles when you turn in a certain direction. After KC, we drove to Lincoln, NE and spent tour funds on a place to sleep for the first time since we left home. I wonder when the idea of staying in hotels became less preferable than crashing on a complete stranger’s couch, for me, or for anyone, but if you play your karmic cards right, you’ll meet some of the most amazing folks in the foreign town through which you’re passing. And many times, by the time you depart, you can’t wait to come back and visit your new friends and the newly familiar places.

We stayed two nights in Lincoln, where the boys played a house show, with more friendly folks. After Lincoln, we drove about 400 miles to Fargo, ND, which was just about the right amount of time to perfect our northern accents and joke about asking everyone where we could meet Steve Buscemi and Frances McDormand. We had a night off, after driving all day and Joey treated us to the movie, Contagion. All I can say about the movie, as someone who doesn’t follow new releases or box office sales, was that I’m guessing it didn’t go viral.

We stayed with the most gracious CouchSurfing hosts, on this tour, in Fargo. If it didn’t snow like 8 feet 8 months out of the year, it would be an awesome town in which to live. The girls we stayed with volunteered at a women’s bike collective and I got to ride a bicycle to the show!! Everyone in the town was so nice and the girls were incredibly generous, sharing their food, their sleeping space, and even coming to see the guys play. I personally enjoyed this set list the most, so far. The town also encourages not driving your car on Tuesdays, I saw picketing in action, did yoga under tall trees in the park, went on a run along a wooded bike path, spent time on the novel and now have freshly clean clothes. Cody was even able to fulfill his dream to watch Fargo, in Fargo. Endless thanks to our new family in Fargo. Come to OK, ladies, okay?!

The art is selling pretty well, too and helping us get by, tank by tank, along with the gracious tips from gracious folks we encounter at coffee shops, bakeries, house shows, music venues. We are so thankful to all of our friends, family and artists who contributed goods and beautiful works to help is get from one town to the next. The decorated light switch covers are a hit, as is the vegan soap that Cody's friend donated to us. Check out her website for those holiday gifts coming up:

http://gratefulhands.org/ I think 50% of proceeds may go to the tour right now, too.

We’re back on the road, on our way to Minnesota. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful rumors about Duluth and Minneapolis, and the folks putting on the show in Cologne couldn’t be more ecstatic about Luna Moth and Blue Valley Farmer gracing the town with their melodic magic.

Time traveling to Columbia, MO 9/23

I can hear the rain drops falling before they blur the ink on my note pad. Our travels have been skies of gray, with a brisk, yet refreshing chill in the air- a pleasant reminder that autumn has arrived. At the moment, this weather comforts me.

Springfield, IL was youthful, and led me to feel introverted. I borrowed the glockenspiel and placed bell-like sounds with words I planned to sing. I am pleased with the product and since more of the like will emerge on this journey. Tonight, at a house show in Columbia, MO, Hazle Lee Dove will perform her first song, opening for Luna Moth and Blue Valley Farmer.

Joey celebrated his birthday in Springfield, a couple of days ago, entering into the final year of his 20s... We're in the same boat now, floating down the same ravine, sharing a similar revere. He received a really unique birthday present that we all three got to experience. In addition to 4 orders of hasbrowns at the Waffle House, the we time traveled together. He turned 29 not once, but twice, as we drove from Louisville, KY after midnight, then crossed back into central time, arriving in Springfield, where got a second chance as a 28 year old, and mooned the country side for his final act.

It got really fun in St. Louis. We saw friends from Oklahoma and stayed with folks we hadn't just met that very day. I reunited with Alfie the robot, one of my favorite toys from my childhood. Leave it up to a musician to turn it into a theremin. It was like we were still time traveling, because in addition to Alfie and the 2nd birthday, gas cost $2.98/gallon. Also awesome? The St. Louis Bread Co that runs on suggested donations. A must visit for any weary traveler. And the City Museum downtown, where Cody and I peered at each other in a life sized-kalidescope, and ran on a giant hamster wheel. Oh, and we washed our clothes. Sort of. And I bought a tank top from a dude who is obsessed with the no-chocking symbol, putting it on everything from clothes to his own car. Good conversation starter at the very least.

Next stop, Ames, IA...

Pine Cone #1

Moody and Maud
Winter, not god
This time of year
Brings me no cheer

But you're so sweet
My soul's in heat
My saving grace
By which to face

This no good time of year.

Lousiville, KY 9/19

This is what happens when you leave your comfort zone:

You find yourself meeting strangers who remind you of past lovers.

Strangers find that you remind them of their 30-year old self, 30 years ago.

You drive to the wrong side of town, then, minutes later, you find yourself sitting, sipping tea that tastes like camp fire, where newspaper comics serve as doilies, across the street from the wrong side of town, where the bright blue neon lights of the White Castle reflect on your antique porcelain mug.

It's easy to forget to breath when you're sharing the same air.

Yesterday, we explored Bloomington, Indiana. I got spoiled by the wooded pathways on the University grounds. Collective housing, co-op grocer's, a pot luck house show at The Switchyard, and a-cappella singing sisters, set an excellent atmosphere for breathing. But meditating inside a Buddhist monastery and practicing sun-salutations beneath prayer flags strung from the leafy-green skies, was the ultimate breath of fresh air.

We made it to Louisville, after an unnecessarily long amount of time spent in the car. Apparently, a 2 hour jaunt turns into nearly 5 hours, when the city announces a bridge closer, due to cracks.. Less frustrating when you find out the reason for the extended car confinement.

Looking forward to the first day off, tomorrow. I have hopes of walking in woods, meditating and writing and exploring a little further outside the cramped quarters of the comfort zone.

Conway, AR Locust Pocus 9/15/11

The road was kind to us yesterday. We left Norman on its first rainy day of fall, with a tiny car packed to the brim with homemade quilts, comfort food, local art from friends, music in our hearts and driving in our minds.

Our journey was pleasant, on the way to Conway, and the house show hosts were benevolent, not to mention amazingly creative and talented musicians. For the first ti

me in a long while, I longed to package their songs in a tiny CD case and listen to them in the form of a CD, while we were on the road. To my disapointment, though, they didn't have them recorded. Which means, I'll be trying to recreate the song that hooked me in and lulled me to experience the emotions they may have felt when writing the lyrics, in my head, nonetheless.

Luna Moth and Blue Valley Farmer were incredibly well received!! Joey sold his entire discography, among other single CDs, as did Cody! We also sold some homemade soap, an Oklahoma chapter zine, and I sold a decorated light switch cover! Not bad for a first show. :)

Last night we drove to Memphis and stayed with my sister and

her boyfriend. Next stop is Nashville, TN...

And we're off...

Norman, Oklahoma, you are a tiny treasure town.

Last night, I felt the warmth and love from close friends, and mere strangers. Our house show/ tour kick off was a blissful success and by the end of the night, I felt wrapped in golden vibes, ready to be sent off like one of the many post cards that will surely be mailed, from the road.

Endless thanks from our town and comrades. You will be in my heart for the next 3 months. For now, new sights and sounds and smells and tastes await. Time to hit the highway.

The Road Most Traveled.

This month's full moon is beginning to wane, and the wind is blowing cooler air across my eyelashes. Something is changing in this atmosphere. Something is changing in the skies. Something is always changing.

We're gearing up for our 3 month music and art national caravan tour, beginning with a music and art local house show at my house tomorrow night, in Norman, Oklahoma. We leave on Friday, and I feel like there is so much to do and so little time. I don't remember the last time I've felt this way. I don't remember the last time I've been this excited.

From the moment it was decided that I would travel with the boys, paths continued to clear, to allow for this process to happen. We have been fortunate to not have very many obstacles to clear, thus far. Thank you. Joey lost his wallet a couple of days ago at the final summer concert at Lion's Park. We had accepted the loss of money, ID, and memory of the Tibetan wallet that he cherished. We began the process of mourning and moving on from the loss, (he had already purchased a new ID) so the next time we road by the park to check one final time, his grass colored wallet appeared to me like a giant emerald. Everything recovered.

It's been days and nights of creating resourceful and practical art out of as much recycled materials as possible, to take with us to sell on the road. It's been days and nights of focusing on health and well being, exercise and relationships with friends and family that I will think about and write to, while on the road.

Mom came for a visit, and left with the dog. It's strange not having the black furred boy-boy passed out next to me on the floor, and barking incessantly at the mail man.

I love these days and nights of preparing to depart, even though they bring twinges of stress. I know I will love the days and nights on the road, seeing new sights and meeting new friends, writing new thoughts and creating new works.

This dove is about to fly in all directions and so are the leaves.

Dreadlocks and Blondies

If there was a story about a boy with one, single dreadlock and a girl who grew up in a suburb of Dallas and went to school in the Lewisville school district, who lived on Comanche Street in Norman, Oklahoma, I couldn't imagine that description fitting more than one boy and one, girl.

I woke up this morning, realizing the irony of the situation, where one boy with a dread in his head, and one girl with an education from Lewisville, Texas, residing on Comanche Street will soon embark on a a 3 month journey around the entire nation, while one boy with an ex-single dread, and one girl with the same education, will replace the soon-t0-be nomads on Comanche, while settling down from their own nomad life-style, with their two young boys.

Stay tuned for the story, I think this one could have a very interesting plot...

P.S. RSVP

Today I leaned just exactly how much Nana shared her family with the rest of the universe, through her words. 

When Mom first asked me, on the phone, if I wanted to speak at the wake, I burst into tears.  Speak?  At a wake?  Whose wake?  What wake?  I hadn't yet been to Dallas, and although I knew the reason for the wake, I was removed somehow from the situation.  Confirming to speak at the wake was confirmation that I'd never receive another letter in the mail from Nana.  And that was something I just couldn't accept at the moment.  After a few days, though, I had processed the request, and thought, maybe I could read something.  One of the letters, maybe.  Maybe one she sent me while I was in Gambia.  I realized it was the very least I could do.  That she deserved to have every single person in the sanctuary stand up at the alter and honor Nana in their own way.

A couple of nights ago, I sat down with a stack of letters from Gambia, and came across one with her hand made monogram stationary.  MF was written at the top, and below read "Remember, you're my angel".  Immediately, even before re-reading it, I knew it was the one.  The content pretty much painted the quintessential Nana portrait, including "Wheel of Fortune", Mother's Day with my mom and dad, an update about my sister, questions about my life, talk about stamps and postage and bus rides, making me feel like I was the most important person in the whole wide world.

When I arrived at the church this afternoon, the familiar faces were somber and faces frowned.  Our hugs were sincere, but I had a secret weapon in my purse.  Somehow, her letter protected me from imminent sadness.  Because I knew in my heart, she was with me then, just as she is with me now, and always, through her words.  And like the arrangement of flowers, a handful of received letters were displayed for viewing.  My eyes navigated towards my handwriting, which led to me discover the last letter I had mailed her, dated August 16th, the day before she passed.  It was the reply to the birthday card I had received the prior day.  I couldn't bring myself to open it.

Instead, I stood up in front of the crowd, honored Nana the way she deserved, and before too long, the service concluded.  Afterwards, folks I had never even met came up to me and we spoke as if we were the oldest of friends.  Nana had connected us through her written words.  She had made local celebrities out of her family members, talking us up, passing on her thoughts and concerns to neighbors and friends.  It was an interesting situation, but if that doesn't scream unconditional love, you're listening to the wrong band.

Afterwards, we gathered at my other late grandma's house.  As I swayed on Meme's backyard bench swing, listening to the cacophony of cicadas in the old Dallas trees, the new sliver of the moon caught my eye.  Just then, a single bird flew passed the crescent, and the day was complete.