I threw my plans in the rubbish heap

Kalemonster here, making my debut on this interwebular documentation of our dear Loki's journey into the great infinite void.  Currently that void has manifested in the form of a wimbly armpit a.k.a. New Jersey.  After various attempts to get the hell out of the Northeast, we have been rubber-banded back to where we started.  Physically, that is.  Yet, there has been some intangible change in the metaphysical landscape - a shift in consciousness.  Someone described the sensation as akin to a dream in which you find yourself in a familiar location but your perception of your environment is completely different from what it resembles in waking life.  We may still be "here" but our minds have shifted into a transient reality.  One in which each moment becomes the totality of our experience.  The future morphs into a mere concept that holds little bearing over present action.  We do not "plan" because an excess of premeditated actions prevents us from dedicating our consciousness to fully present action.  And plans are wont to be altered, thwarted, or all together thrown in the proverbial rubbish heap.  Not to mention plans lead to expectations that left unfulfilled, beget disappointment.  So basically we are living moment to moment here, utilizing this stationary period to learn how to better live with each other, to surrender to the flow, and to recognize that reality is what you make it.  Our bus is our home, whether we are in New Jersey or New Mexico.  

In other news, I wrote a poem about our first attempt to hit the road.  Hilariously enough we ended up spending the night in a musty warehouse.  I call this one "Warehouse Bedroom."

Warehouse bedroom
    pallid paradise
we took off riding
   tricycles through
      the industrial decay
"I say man, it's a goddamn circus!"
    hoops-a-twirlin'
    flags-a-flappin'
A modestly bearded minstrel
   plucking salvation
     in six strings.


We opened up the innards
   of this barren place
      prodded and pulled
          out the dormant vitals
 let the stale wind blow through
     emancipated tendrils
as I cruise by 
   on an antique ten-speed
     silver blue metallic
       rubber caressing concrete
             as the dream begins to stir...


"To hell with it!
     We'll have a parade!"
  an unlikely procession
   the machinery shrinking
     shocked yet intrigued
"Keep banging that drum, boy,
   let them hear it on Olympus!"
 We will not be silenced
   our joy not smothered
      though our throats are
         filling up with toxins
              with each stifled breath.


We just dive deeper
  into the belly of the beast
   to find the oasis of creation
        a magic box buried
            amongst the rubble
   Tread lightly now
   for this is hallowed ground
    and I pay homage to
         the winged horse shoe crab
            who finally got free.


The band shows up
   and oh are we in the pudding now
"Hike up your britches and 
        hold on....."
The electric guitar humming and buzzing and cooing
   like a colony of bees
   like a gospel choir
   like vibratory marmalade
Now the trumpet
    slithering out of the raucous mire 
         silver brass sex appeal
     and we're all set a-tingling
The drums
    rolling down the mountain
            picking up speed until...
    "Snap your suspenders,
          we're going polka dancing!"
   and we laugh and laugh
       til our cheeks crumble
            from the weight of bliss.


Into the void
  where the acoustics are best
the horn sounding omnipresent
  as the guitar lulls on
     like a weary Siren 
my lips part an I sing
     soul-stricken and full
      raw and unabashed
 a mantra of redemption.  

Finding a groove

The past 4 days have been a challenge for us and for Loki. We attempted to leave 4 times and could not for various reasons (electrical issues, brake issues, starter issues, personal issues), each time getting a little further and closer and having to turn back. However, despite our trials and tribulations, what has happened to us has become an amazing experience in bonding and perseverance.  The more time I spend with this family, the more honored I feel to be a part of it. In other places where other people might loose there cool, their patience, and their positive attitude, we have exemplified our unique ability to make the best of things. I am proud of us, and feel that even though we may not physically be where we thought we'd be by now, we are living together on this bus that finally feels like home, and that is all we need. Love, family, and creativity. Today we hung around outside, made some stuff to sell, organized the bus, and had awesome conversations about where we're all at right now. Being so open is important for making this trip work. With solid hearts and hopes, we are having a great trip so far!

Love all,
rabbit

Namesakes

Loki.  The Norse quasi-God of mischief.  "In his early days Loki was a rascal; crafty, sneaky, silly and malicious — a Loki The Lad. The son of two Giants, he was so outrageously mischievous that he even sneaked his way into becoming a God. He was the first Anti-Hero, quick-witting his way out of the tight corners and confrontations caused by his misdeeds." (http://www.godchecker.com/pantheon/norse-mythology.php?deity=LOKI)  Everyone says he was quite the looker, though, and sometimes, in a bout of compassion, would make up for his tricks by doing right.

Spes.  The ancient Roman goddess of hope.  Loki's been up to more than her usual antics in the last five days, so we did a little research to see if we couldn't find her a nice friend.  Loki and Spes now share the steering wheel of our adventure, so maybe we'll make it past Delaware today?

A letter home

Dear Mom and Dad,

I am having a swell time living on a bus with my friends.  Our first night, we celebrated our new home and mode of living by doing exactly what we wanted in each moment.  Brit held an opening for her solo show in a small private gallery, and we played with our full band and choir there.   We organized a parade for ourselves with a marching band and a tricycle fleet and the press showed up and our resident Spanish journalist decided to begin a documentary about our community that she will show to the international public.  We drank Italian red wine and lit candles and decorated ourselves and hung up prayer flags and took out the hula hoops and danced.  We rode a pink golf cart around.  It all felt magical and exactly the thing to do, a self-feeding creative momentum that promised good days to come.

We woke up exhausted due to far too little sleep but were invited into a nearby bed and breakfast whose owner is a dear old friend of ours.  He served us a three course meal, set out fresh bedding, and we all took catnaps.  The afternoon we spent hiking around a local swamp that is preserve land, collecting materials to integrate into sculpture, drawings, lyrics and poetry.  I found beautiful colors in a species of tree I haven't noticed before and plan to paint with them the next time I have my supplies out and some time to stop and work.  A coconut washed up on the shore and Max cracked it open and the flesh was still sweet and good.  When we returned to our host he was coming in with groceries for an elaborate dinner.  We ate roasted beet salad and sauteed broccoli and the ancient strain of wheat known as kamut with sage and tarragon aioli, and seitan sliders, more Italian vino.  A soundtrack of Fats and Otis and Sly and Marvin.  We wound down around an outdoor fire, singing a new Spanish song our journalist taught us and learning about her and our other new housemate Andy from New Jersey.

When we went home, Loki was a little cold, so we pulled out the full poundage of blankets and snuggled into a few nests.  We slept for a long time, luxuriously.  Today we woke up with enough energy to get us through anything.  Kaley did morning sun salutations, and we made a trip to the nearest grocery for some simple fare.  Coffee and eggs and toast for breakfast, and another long walk through the nearby preserve land to really wake up.  Converted the nighttime bus into a daytime bus, and organized the space better.  Took her for a drive into the sunset, listening to a mix of music Bri came up with to add a little atmosphere to any stretch of road.  Miss her.

Currently, we are working well as a team and a family.  Troubleshooting is easy with all the minds and hearts in this little home.  Every minute is meaningful as we begin our trip and clarify our intentions.  We are really living the reality that we can grow because of anything, anyone, anywhere, and create magic everywhere, all the time.

I hope you are doing good things for yourselves and each other!  So much love,

Jackie

A Walkabout

The man says a lot about our trip.


When I was very young, my father showed my sister and me Roeg's 1971 film "Walkabout."  The walkabout is an aboriginal rite of passage, marking a young person's transition into adulthood.  The walkabout is a journey the child must take alone, into the desert, with very few possessions other than the knowledge that he has learned through his elder's stories and lessons.  His only objective is survival in his natural habitat--which is the same aim of all his culture's developments and intellectual progress over the course of its existence. The idea of an ultimate test for the entire scope of our upbringing and education has resonated for me at various crossroads in my life ever since I watched the film.

I have found that in my culture, which wants much more than survival in a lifetime, it is possible to remain a child indefinitely.  The significance of a strong community in aboriginal society is that it makes the individual safer and stronger, ensuring health.  We have perhaps skewed the purpose of community in our Western culture--community is also a money-maker and a money-saver, in the same way the promise of happiness is used to stimulate our economy.  It is possible to place money and the ability to earn it at the foundation for our lives rather than a deeper knowledge and understanding of ourselves and our relationship to the land, to our family, etc.  In this way, we can continue through life in channels and safety-nets exchanged to us for skills or labor that often does not result in our own growth or wisdom.  We have the option of not growing, to entrust our personal well-being with someone else.

My companions and I have spent a year together now, learning about ourselves and each other, looking deep within to discover our minimum needs and greatest dreams.  We have put all of the lessons and truths of our various upbringings and educations in a big pile on the table, and have begun to sort through them together.  What do you know that I don't?  What have I accepted without real examination?  What is love, really?  What is family?  What does my society expect of me, my family, my community... and how do those things compare to my goals, strengths, weaknesses, direction?  What part of my education thus far is useful, and what do I wish to shed?  This is the mentality with which we set out on the road tonight.  We will put all of these questions and knowledge and so much more to very direct tests as we confront different communities and lifestyles, the legal and social infrastructure of our general culture, the diverse landscapes of our country, and each other.

Our own walkabout starts now.

Keep in touch with all your ideas and insights!

Love,

Jackie