Photographs

Selfportrait NYCInside abandoned train Utah
Abandoned train
Shooting through the train window...heading East
The three Strays from Chicago...Thunder Mtn. Nevada.

Ramblings From a Road Dog

I pulled over for this...wait till the film comes back.  Wyoming.
Yellowstone,  it was freezing.
Bison held up traffic on many occasions.
The Badlands and I... (mom I am refraining from a smart ass comment here.)
Towed.

Hola people,

I am just going to highlight a few things from the last week or so.

1.Stayed with Jonathan and Anne in Columbus, OH.  Explored the student ghetto, Wexler Museum, got giant burgers and had a good time.

2.Drove through Illinois while listening to Sufijan Stevens album "Come on Bring the Illinois"

3.Woke up in a rest stop and watched a convoy of army personel drive by.  Very surreal.

4. After days of rain it let up just as I reached the Badlands in South Dakota.  My father took John and I here when we were kids.  Very magical, highly recommend it.

5. Got pulled over in Buffalo for a busted tail light cover.  My registration was expired he told me it is a $410 fine...he let me off with a warning.

6.The drive from Buffalo to Yellowstone on route 16 was way longer then I thought but well worth it.  Snow lot's of it.

7.Yellowstone lives up to the hype.  Bison all over, natural beauty is amazing.  I bought wood for a fire...it snowed all night.

8. Grand Tetons = breathtaking.  Wyoming is a wonderful state.

9.The Cocoon died.  Had to have her towed to Tuffy's auto.  Luckily all she needed was a new battery.

10. Driving across the Utah salt flats today.

Meet the Parents by B.

 

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Matt asked me to make a guest appearance on his blog to share my experience from his parents’ Gurdjieff Studies seminar a couple weeks ago. Since Matt already posted his experience from the Arizona seminar, he thought a virgin experience might be more interesting. If you’ll indulge me, here goes…

His dad was kind enough to invite me, never having met me before. Though I didn’t have much of an idea of what the weekend would entail, it almost certainly would not include a Memorial Day barbecue, but when you have the chance to learn from a spiritual teacher with 7 published books (and 3 videos), and you’re dating his son, how can you say no? At the very least, I figure, it will make a good story. 

I spend the first 24 hours totally confused and, frankly, a little pissed off. My seminar roommate later tells me that she worried about me that first day or so, using the word “morose” to describe my energy. Nevertheless, everyone leaves me alone to make my way on my own. It turns out I am just tired and confused that first night. I get over my fantasies of escape after a good night’s rest and am ready for early morning yoga at 6:15am. 

Matt’s dad leads the sessions. He is stern but loving. His Irish chuckle is a welcome reprieve from the serious mood that permeates the air here. I work with the ideas he is introducing - getting out of the “head brain” and “into the body.” They aren’t unlike ideas I have heard at yoga classes in the city, but it is new to be applying them with such intensity and duration. It requires a lot of nap-taking in between scheduled sessions. In fact, one impromptu nap takes place in the reeds on the side of the road because my bed is just too far away. 

In case I haven’t already mentioned it, this is a journey that everyone at the seminar takes alone. I thought that the weekend would be a good chance to spend some time with Matt before he hit the road back to California. I hadn’t anticipated that he would pretend to ignore me from the moment we walk in the door. Aside from feeling confused and a little abandoned, I feel invisible. That’s not something we feel every day, even in the crowds of NYC. I say that Matt “pretended” to ignore me because, at this point, my ego is stubbornly holding onto the idea that I am of interest to other people, that they are watching me, that I can’t be ignored. I heard other people echo this sentiment, as well, concocting paranoid fantasies that they are being singled out and tested. I am quite sure that was not the case. 

When Matt’s dad says my name during yoga (a light chiding for doing the pose wrong), my heart jumps. Someone has acknowledged my presence – I am here! It’s shocking how much we rely on social interaction to stay sane. I am reminded of a recent New Yorker article that discussed the cruelest form of torture – solitary confinement. People spend years in prison left to their own thoughts. As Matt would later joke, it’s pretty heavy to realize, after spending only 3 days with nobody to distract you from your inner dialog, that your personality kind of sucks. By this time, I think we all are starting to get a little tired of listening to our whiney, repetitive inner voices.

On Saturday night, I finally figure out what we are supposed to be doing. I heard it the first night, but was so distracted and agitated that it takes hearing it a second time and listening to other people’s experiences for it to sink in. Putting it into practice during the break between the discussion and the evening meditation, I begin to understand. It takes only a sip of water – the first real sip I have perhaps ever taken – for me to start to come into my body. I feel charged and hyper-aware of everything around me…the feeling of my clothes against my skin, the weight of my body on my feet. As I turn to return to the meditation room, I see that Matt has been standing behind me. That’s all it takes to bubble up all of the emotions I’ve been wrestling with the past 24 hours – the hurt, the anger, the shame, a little more anger. I barely make it to my seat in the back row before I’m overwhelmed with emotion. Tears pour down my face and onto my shirt. It’s not a cry of sadness, but of release.

That night is remarkable. Walking along the road on which I fantasized my escape the night before, I notice specks of light in the distance. Feeling the lure like Richard Dreyfuss in “Close Encounters,” I laugh out loud suspecting that I’m so high I’m hallucinating the shiny dots. The next day I see on the map that I was walking toward what’s known as Firefly Meadow. Maybe they truck in the fireflies so the seminar participants feel like they are getting their money’s worth from the weekend. Regardless, it is pretty magical.

By the final morning, I’m existing in the moment, letting seductive thoughts of past and future slide by without dragging me along. Walking around the grounds, I can’t believe how beautiful everything looks. How did everything I’ve been seeing for the past 2 days suddenly get so beautiful? I’m positively filled with joy, thrilled to be alive. I see the cafeteria as if for the first time. Eating meals in the cafeteria has been the hardest part of the experience for some reason, but I don’t even try to hide the huge smile on my face as I eat my oatmeal. The rest of the morning is spent packing and attending a couple final sessions. Matt motions for me sit next to him during the final discussion. For the last exercise, we all join hands in a circle and I position myself next to him, feeling like a scheming schoolgirl. I will never again take for granted physical contact. 

Once we have hugged and shared a few laughs, his parents come over. I give each of them a big hug as his dad says, “Nice way to meet the parents, huh?” At lunch, we decide it’s either the best way to meet the parents, or it’s my new “worst date ever” story. 

A Quick Update.

I left NYC and started my trip back to CA.  I stopped at FDR skate park in Philly for a couple of hours and then continued driving on the 76 toll road towards Pittsburgh.  The first night back in the Cocoon was spent in the parking lot of a truck stop.  I got the stove out in the morning and brewed some coffee on the tailgate.  Between the coffee and the humidity, beads of sweat started pooling in the natural lines of my face.  It felt good to be driving again...the never ending game of leap frog which is played between myself and the truckers.  

       I skated another park in Wheeling West Virgina and then drove through the sunset into Ohio.  I am off to Coloumbus, to go see my good friend from college, Jonathan and his wife Anne.

adios.  

CRAFTERPARTY

      Sometimes the road goes in circles...what can I say? I am back in NYC.  Blyth hosted the seasons first crafterparty because her place is huge by New York standards.  We ran around all morning gathering food, snacks and drinks.  We went to this candy store and came out with chocolate covered gingers, smores and marsh mellows dipped in chocolate with m&m on a stick.  Sugar was taken care of so we moved on to guacamole.  It was fun buying all the fixings in Chinatown, the vendors get really upset if you don't use their red plastic bags.  We kept stuffing produce into one big canvas bag which seemed very foreign to them.  

     We got everything back to her house and she decided to go back out and get some embroidery thread so people could make "Friendship bracelets".  These were really popular in 7th grade, maybe a bit before if you were really hip.  I stayed and took care of some much needed business in the restroom.  I was reading People, keeping up with Kristie Alley weight drama and enjoying some alone time.  Everything was going wonderfully until I flushed...yes ladies and gentleman we had a clogger.  No need to panic, I simply found the plunger and gave it some up and down action.  This will normally do the trick but it wasn't working.  Shit...I tried again and again.  while eyeing the clock, 3:22 pm.  Blyth's guest were arriving at 4 and their is only one toilet.  I spent another twenty minutes in there with no luck.  Think think.  OK she lives over a hardware store so I ran downstairs.  As I made my way around the banister her room mate greeted me in the hallway.  Their was no squirming out of this.  I came clean and told her I would take care of it.  She looked mildly traumatized but there was no time to soothe her emotions out.  I grabbed a Toilet Auger which I had never heard of but it looked promising.  Imagine a three foot snake with a handle on one end that you shove in the bowl and crank on to clean out your pipes.  I placed it on the counter, the woman who doubles as the landlord eyed it and then looked at me.

"for upstair?"

I shook my head

"Eightenn dolla"

I handed her a card  which she declined...cash only.  I ran around the corner to Broome st and used the ATM on the corner.  I don't know what the deal is but this street always stinks like dead fish.  I ran back up the stairs and gave her a twenty.  Blyth still wasn't home, so I closed the door and took the packaging off the auger and got to work.  I had to really force the thing in there, it wasn't pretty but I didn't have much choice.  I kept waiting for the water to drop to no avail.  Beads of sweet were running down my face as I turned the handle.  I could hear the metal snake grinding away deep in the pipe.  I couldn't believe that I alone had caused such a backup, someone must of dropped a toothbrush or makeup container in there.  I alternated between the auger and plunger while Blyth and her guests sat in the other room drinking wine.  I am sure they heard all the commotion in there.   They felt awkward so they all went to the fabric store to pick out patterns for their crafterparty project.  I gave it all I had before excepting that I am not a plumber.  I got it working...not perfect but passable for normal use.  I jumped in the shower and cleaned up.  

      The girls returned with their buys and we all got busy sewing bags for our yoga mats.  It ended up being really fun once I settled down.  Check the photos.

Reading MA

Laila Shay puked at just the right time.Brians personal fire hydrant.
Red spheres on the way out of Woodstock.

Brian figuring out how to use his camera.
Baby's smile at me now....that never used to happen, ever.

          Blyth caught the bus back to Manhattan from the town center in Woodstock.  I hung out for another day taking in the hippies and all their 60's paraphernalia.  Hendrix, Dylan and a few others still make up most of the posters in this little town.  There seems to be quite a few different scenes going on here.  You have the holdout hippies who actually attended the original concert, Zen Monks up on the hill, and new money which comes in on the weekends.  It was $6.75 for a bagel with the works.  I am not sure what the works included but shit that's more then this road dog is going to fork out.  I did the Overlook hike which elevates a couple thousand feet up to a lookout tower.  From the top I could see a 360 degree view of 5 different counties and their inviting lakes.  There is also an abandoned motel which was really fun to explore.  I didn't have my camera...classic.  Whenever I leave it I always stumble across really interesting things.  

      I headed out of town trying to hook up with 90 which would take me into Boston.  Before I hit the Toll Road I came across these hanging red spheres that someone hung between two trees.  I stopped and took some photos while traffic whizzed by.  It's really cool to see all the art which seems to grow out of peoples front yards in this area.  Gardens as well, I saw tons of fenced in raised beds which were ready for planting.  I was having ideas of building my own home and living in the country.  

    I convinced my friend Brian to put me up for a couple of nights in Reading which is just outside Boston.  This was was suburban experience for the trip.  He and his wife, Kate live on a really nice street with trees and their own personal fire hydrant.  This thing is about six inches from their driveway...trust me, someone is going to give that thing a little kiss with their bumper and have a front row seat to the water show.  They just had a little girl, Laila Shay.  This little beauty is on her own schedule, she stayed up watching the Celtics game with us.  By eleven  her head was nodding off but she really wanted to stay up.  

   The following day I went for a walk and fixed my speakers which went out a few weeks ago.  I got the back ones working yet the front is still inaudible.  While working on the stereo, the neighbors were wondering who the hell the bearded warrior with CA plates was.  I just smiled and made myself a peanut butter and nutella sandwich on my tailgate.    

Catskills Site 29

Tarzan
Mt. Tremper hike
Site 29

       I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and made the sweeping turn onto FDR Drive.  The cars looked like those tiny little goldfish darting around with random abandon.  I followed along being as aggressive as one can be without knowing where they are going.  Ten minutes later the rains came forcing me to put the wipers on.  The five second intervals proved not to be enough, I switched them to high and watched the water pour off the windshield.  I felt like a scout being sent ahead to find a place to sleep for the night.  Some male gene was kicking in telling me that this campground must be really sweet.  After driving around the Catskills for an hour I finally stumbled upon a campground.  The signs said "Closed" fuck, I was fried and decided that one little sign was not going to slow me down.  I drove down the road until I saw a house and was greeted by a woman who  was not happy to see me.

"Can I help you"

"ah, I'm looking for the campground"

"Were closed, just like the sign says...All the campgrounds don't open until next week."

She directed me to Phonecia as a last resort.  This town was a few miles away...I pulled into the Sleepy Hollow campground and assessed the surroundings.  RVs everywhere, this is a bad sign in the camping world.  I am not claiming to be Mr. Outdoors but I have only stayed in a RV once...and it was for a bachelor party in Mexico.  A different kind of trip entirely.  I made a fire ,cooked and took in the fresh air.  The following morning I packed up and headed  to the tourist info center to get a handle on the hiking.  After being given a list of hikes I sat in the truck and read a few of them.  It seems like all the hikes were separated by 15 miles.  I had a little Epiphany while sitting there.  That campground would not be all that bad if I just moved across the road onto the Esopus Creek.  I headed back and picked out spot number 30.  The old lady at the front desk was not anywhere to be seen.  I parked in front of the office and opened Blood Meridian by Cormack McCarthy.  This book is pure carnage...pillage and murder through out the West.  It's a good book but damn, you don't have to scalp everyone that crosses your path. 

     Site 30 was booked a week before by a volunteer firefighter named Clark.  I took the spot next door and we both got set up.  He hung his NY Giants flag and I laid out a tarp and pitched my Kelty tent from my Uncle Buzz who worked their for many years.  A couple hours later I drove into Pougkepsie to pick up Blyth.  She got off the train with her large backpack and a sweet wraparound dress.  I opened up The Cocoon to put her bag in when a large black lady in a SUV stopped and opened her window.

"You guys look adorable"

We were feeling it, apparently it was obvious.  We got on the 87 toll road and headed back to the campsite.  Once again, the rain came down in sheets.  I could see the road for a brief moment when the wiper blade went by, then total  washout.  That night we cooked some gourmet mac n cheese with sausage, tomatoes garlic and onions.  We drank a couple of beers and watched our poor little rain soaked fire smolder and try to stay lit.  We moved the futon out of The Cocoon and into the tent...I felt a bit strange, camping is supposed to be a bit rough.  This seemed like it was pushing the comfort level slightly high.  Never the less, it proved to be a much needed anchor the following night when the Gael force winds started in. After hearing Clarks awning come crashing down, Blyth was freaked that his crap would come flying into our tent.  We didn't get much sleep that night but we made up for it with a ruling breakfast at Sweet Sue's in town.  

   All in all, the Catskills are really cool once you drop your California expectations of natural beauty.  A good time was had by all.  Next stop suburbia.