O what a warm and darksome nest Where the wildest things are hidden to rest! It's there that I'd love to lie and sleep, Soft, soft, soft, and deep, deep, deep!
My body aches from climbing up and down snow covered hills, the chill hasn't yet left and my soul is weighted with a heavy fatigue... it's the kind of fatigue that comes with a satisfying few days of manual labor. Unintentional though it was, the holiday from hell, which peaked with the complete loss of water Saturday, was more satisfying than a thousand days behind a computer screen. From making many a trip for snow to melt over the fire, to freezing fingers off getting studded chains onto tires, to sharing your hearth with forest mice, to late night conversations in belly-up snow-stuck cars in the middle of a deserted white wood... it was a cold weekend that warmed my heart. I don't think there's anything more beautiful than tracing the veins of marshmallow covered trees across the dark lavender skies.
“A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”
'Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do, so throw off the bowlines, sail away from safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore, Dream, Discover.'
(Dear handwriting analysts, I don't want to know. Thx, MK)
To Denver next month with two of my favorite ladies! To London in January!
For someone who's not a great long-term life planner, this is quite character building. I keep waking up in the middle of the night from over-enthusiasm or stress. Things keep popping into my mind -- oh my goodness, I'm going to need adapters... how am I going to exist without my iPhone (and Instagram?!? and my Magic 8 ball app to make decisions for me?? and JBieb's newest selfie app? and the talking cat app? [disclaimer: not at all serious except for the maps app... the lack of is going to build so much character I may have sainthood thrust upon me])... gotta cancel my incredibly ridiculously expensive gym... long-distance relationship with my kayak (will it still love me?)... should I wear three jackets on the plane?... how does one prioritize shoes?
I really want to go camping while I'm there. Like all the time! Pinterest has promised some wonderfully beautiful sights in the UK -- Isle of this, Isle of that -- yes, yes, yes! And thank goodness for Meetups.com. That site has been the best travel companion since Couchsurfing. There's outdoor adventure groups, running groups, art groups, museum groups, beer groups, new british friend groups, and american-schmericans in the uk groups (I'm generally a big advocate of living like the locals, but I suspect there might be a point where I'll need someone to test my knowledge of all the US state capitols-- gotta stay sharp... Dover, DE; Hartford, CT; Olympia, WA; Carson City, NV; Topeka, KS; Springfield, Illinois! and all the rest). Groups for every thing I like (and will soon love... I hope they have a tea enthusiast group!)
I was thinking, due to lack of said iPhone, I could put my memory palace enthusiasm to use on London and memorize all the roads, train schedules and restaurant reviews (minus the last two). I'll be a walking map app!
Also, British television! British film! British art! British music, music music!! MUSIC! I'm going to stuff my ears full of British folk, rock, classical, alternative, etc... so much so that I may go deaf. But it will be worth it.
With that said, I'm going to try and catch a few zzz's before I wake up at 3 a.m. and realize that I'm going to have to make sure not to forget that I'm 'merican and that they won't let me stay forever because I was accidentally born to American parents (whom I love despite the mixup).
(Sidenote: isn't it weird we're called Americans when Canadians, Mexicans, Brazillians, etc. live in (N or S) American countries too? ... I guess we're the most uncreative when it comes to naming things...)
I'm a-drownin' in projects. Sometimes, you just gotta take a break and sketch.
Pipe smoking has always invoked a delicious, warm masculine feeling. So many wise and wonderful men have mastered the art of pipe smoking -- Einstein, Steinbeck, Twain, Sherlock Holmes, Gandalf. I can't help but think a bit better of an older gentleman with a pipe in his hand and his eyes in the clouds.
I had this great uncle, he was a monk in this giant old monastery and we'd go visit him every year on my birthday. He was sort of wild for a man of the church -- sneaking out, smoking his pipe, hand drawing and programming elaborate computer games (before computers were popular), and spending long nights in his print shop... he was a groovy guy. He also had a penchant for making elaborate boats out of milk cartons which is probably the epitome of awesome in my book. It may have just been his pipe or wild gray hair, but he embodied the free spirited wise man that I idolize so much. He was my real-life Steinbeck.
Good night, darling reader.
If I was myself a piper, I'd think of you as I inhaled the dreams of the world.