Heading East

Hello, I don't know if anyone reads this anymore, probably because I haven't posted in an extremely long period of time. Two things are certain though. I am headed East, and when I settle down I am going to start a new blog about my writing and my travel stories. Hope you are all well.

Portlandish

I am sick. I don't remember the last time I was sick. It has been awhile.

I took a walk down to Hawthorne from my house and realized in about three minutes that that is where I want to work and hang out. The street is full of head shops, vintage clothes places, and music stores. It has a feeling of change, it has a feeling of small business and the kind of place where things happen. I want to stand outside of a place I work there and talk to different people about the things that go on there.

I tried a canvassing job yesterday. It was gross and I actually felt dirty when I got back to my apartment. Which is a room in a house in SE that I share with Ally. It was nice to take a shower and wash that day off. It was a day full of awkward training by some weird older dude that loved his work, but looked coked out, and a chauvinist skinny jeaned wearing hard core weirdo.

I was supposed to lie to people all day to build some kind of rapport and then persuade them into sponsoring a child. It seems like a worthwhile charity, but I'm just not that kind of guy. Even though they were little fibs, I still can't lie to people all day.

Fuck that.

I am still looking for work, and hope all is well with all of you. I am excited to see Laura Ganci when she comes to town on tour this month. She is a friend from Connecticut and a talented musician.

Rock on.


James

windows

So I went for a four hour walk today. It was from NE Ainsworth, right near where I am staying, all the way downtown to the water front. I saw a lot of things on a windy Tuesday night.

I saw myself in a lot of windows and doorways. I am about thirty pounds heavier than I was when I got back from Ghana. That is probably from sitting around too much and having much more than I need to eat. A terrible problem to have I admit. In Ghana I walked everywhere, sweat all day, and ate no where as much as I do here.

None of the clothes that I brought fit anymore. My weight fluctuates so much that my clothes go through hell. Also, the wear and tear of living in a car makes them stretch and ruins them.

During the walk I met a man going through recycling bins looking for empties. He told me that he had found a turtle in a driveway and because he didn't know what to do with it he put it in a cardboard box. He asked me what I should do. I told him I didn't know and left.

After awhile I came to a bridge that I tried to cross, but it turned out to be only for cars. Then I backtracked and kept walking to the broadway bridge. As I went across it the sun was going down and the river was lit up with a golden wave.

I sat down near the river and watched people go by. The sun was almost down and the crowd consisted  of a lot of runners and bikers. Most had earphones in and didn't notice me. When I go out I try to smile at everyone I can to be friendly. The other people around were a big group of skateboarders, who didn't seem very happy about something, and some crusty punks who seemed extremely excited about something in a bucket. I didn't ask what it was.

Some would call this a welfare city. Where people sit on the street and expect handouts, but some of the people that I have seen and met choose to live this life and are so free it glows from them. I don't see myself sleeping in an alley way or under a bridge anytime soon, but who knows what tomorrow will bring.

come back home

I am in Portland Oregon, couchsurfing with some family friends of my girlfriend Ally. We are staying in their mothers RV that is parked in their driveway.  She is at her Pizza job that she just got in SE Portland at a place called Gladstone pizza. Dr. Gladstone was my bald, skinny, and quick witted pediatrician in Connecticut.

I called an old friend today and while we were discussing things he asked me why don't I come back home to Connecticut. I've been thinking about this and I wanted to explore it. Should I consider Connecticut my home?

I was born there. It was at Farmington hospital twenty five years ago. It happens to be in the same area as where my sister Katie works. I haven't spoken to her in a few years. Her partner and I had a disagreement about something and never made up. The hospital is also in the same complex where I received five inoculations to go to Ghana, Africa. I went to West Africa for a new adventure, but also because I wanted to see my girlfriend Paige, who was studying abroad there.

I grew up in Berlin. Which is about twenty minutes from Hartford, a city I barely knew, but went to its university for three years. I never got to know the city because I chose to commute there and thought that my real friends were in Berlin, so I didn't branch out much. I met a few great poets, but we don't talk much these days.

The past few years have been a couchsurfing menagerie for me. I've been searching for awhile to try to find the place that I can call home, or build something of my own. When I panic, or feel stuck, I move on. I pack some cloths that don't fit, and move further down the line. People like to label my lifestyle with simple words, but nothing in life is a simple word. I am not a hippie, or an activist, or a drunk, or a conservative, or a comedian, or traveler, or anything. I am just a dude, and the dude is living life, breathing, and looking for a right fit.

Is Connecticut my home? It was for awhile, I met some people that I love there. I miss them sometimes when something reminds me of them. I also miss my family, which isn't perfect, but it's mine. I'm not perfect either. I forget a lot of things I shouldn't and I don't always think before I speak or act.

I do know that I'm gonna keep moving a little further at a time. Till it's time to settle down, but I won't know when that it till it happens.

So see you soon, or see you later, but I'm sure I'll see you again. 

Hemingway

"Writing and travel broaden your ass if not your mind and I like to write standing up."

Cafe Nine

Last night I went to Cafe Nine in New Haven. I saw Elison Jackson who put on a great show. They have changed in members since I have last seen them. Sam Perduta can still put a smile on your face.
I also saw Great Ceasar which is a kick ass six piece from Madison CT. I really dug their stuff and hope I can see them again soon.
The third band was Those Darlins. It is a four piece rock step from TN. They blew me away with their steady riffs and the lead singers eye balls. She would stare so hard and with such damnation that I thought my soul might fall out.

Watching Ghosts of Mars with Ice Cube.

It's teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrible!

Jack Cady

Was an American Novelist. I read one of his short stories today in the Best American Short Stories anthology of 1970. You should check him out.

Read dude. Educate yourself, no one else is going to do it for you.