All Pursuits Wortwhile: Time

Get excited. Life is oozing out of my fingers like squeezed gak (a wondrous joyous mixture of Elmer’s glue, water, and borax). I’ve got the Dean Moriarity bug screaming YES YES YES at every drop of dew, every inscrutable street, each piece of trash being kicked by ragged shoes. All that may feel neglected should not, because I’m thinking about it. Life is large in the Pacific Northwest. The snowcapped Mountains dominate the landscape and the chill will remove the stagnancy and complacency from your idea of summer in July snoozing on the beach.

bear on the swing with the pink slippers
high priest on the high beam
rising bread in the sun
against a blank canvas
soon to be splashed with the rainbow’s soul
evolving waves of wisdom
generations of time passing like fireflies
mother time to brother time to
yesterday’s idea of eternity
thank you
thank you
each room a sanctuary
illuminating the present goal
in every eyeless corridor
you’re an artist
we’re all artists
thank you thank
you
for the endless inspiration

The road trip. 1600 miles, easy, lets drive right on thru! A got a rideshare with an African American family heading to Seattle from Minneapolis for the summer for various reasons (family, film internship). I’ve been anticipating crossing America at lengths for years now. Kerouac’s On the Road has been an inspiration in my intrepid travels since early High School. The goals and dreams of my past have manifested in unexpected ways without any order to it. Roll the dice, close the eyes, and roll’emagain. Again and again. I am trying to treat each room as a sanctuary, every minute as a gift, and whatever occurs –get excited, it’s occurring.


If it is willed
the road that always been
awaits
though explore before
(through foreign eyes
feasting on prehuman landscape)
be there
in ecstasy
like a newborn
breaching the water
towards the moonlight
after
the first midnight swim


Fast forward to the sites, smells, sounds and tastes as Seattle’s Pike Place. Like most international marketplaces in cities, where the artisans of the world congregate and share their expressions of themselves with the world. On the street, a picture will come soon, is a man singing the saddest blues song ever,‘Brocolli… again, for dinner!’ He sings it while hula hooping, and while hooping he plays harmonica and guitar, and while playing guitar he spins in a circle balancing a second guitar on his chin, and with his free hand he strikes the guitar resting on his chin a shaker up and down the bridge. Spinning, hula hooping, meditating on the SADDEST SONG EVER! This man’s ability was not lost on me, his lyrics about broccoli were poignant and his showmanship well practiced. I was eating a potatoe and cheese pyroshki at the time, walking around with fresh vegetables, and Copper River Salmon which would be baked later that night to perfection. Local arts, crafts, foods, people watching delights. My kind of place, a good cultural harvest. Afterwards, we (my cousins whom I hadn’t seen in 15 years) went to Theo Chocolate, the first North American Fair-trade and Organic chocolate makers. More artisans and wonderful smells and tastes. Ghost chile chocolate caramels, single malt scotch ganaches, chipotle spice sipping chocolate, YES YES YES!

We toured the facilities and saw the merry chocolatiers in their natural Willy Wonka like chocolate fountain dwelling. After a tour of chocolate, and a free 40 lb bag of husked cacao bean shells to use as mulch (holler at your sustainable recyclable practices), we did what any sane 21+ year old in America would do. Grab a beer in a town dubbed as “the center of the universe.” Went to Brouwer’s and got a Montana brew, Big Sky’s Ivan the Terrible Stout. An 11% 12 oz pour from the tap, one of their 60+ options, along with 300 + bottles. The scenery and space of the bar was gorgeous and I’d frequent that place if I lived within 30 miles. Drove back home to cook a dinner that satiated my belly fully. We baked the salmon with a smoked paprika, salt, pepper, garlic, oil rub and topped with lemon wedges and sliced onion. Served the fresh caught Copper River Salmon on a bed of steamed and massaged mustard greens from the garden and delicious risotto on the side. After some digestion time I made dough for tomorrow morning’s bagels, conversed and found out more about my friendly, warm, personable cousin’s lives and went to sleep. A wonderful first day in Seattle.

The next night, indescribable. So why bother going through details. Instead I’ll try and keep it simple with an image.

Imagine your life as a piece of paper.

Fold it into a tree.

Watch the inanimate bear fruit, drop seed, grow

into a new tree with new fruit.

Now take this new tree with new fruit.

Unfold it back into that piece of paper.

Have a couple beers while living in those new creases.

Be positive. About everything. It helps. Life is boundless.

rain is dripping through the shelter
into the home we're always seeking
frog drinks find their way into my head
i can't wait for the day
when dr seuss becomes reality
theres a spinning top that never stops she says

on yesterdays trail i followed you
to the endless loop i thought was made for two
we're never older than the day we die
always will we always be
grateful for idea of eternity
a rock a map a diving board, why be shy
when will i understand
that when this globe gripped by hand
starts spinning it won't ever change a thing
that won't prevent me from trying
swimming deeper, like a water dividing
bridge that connects a peasant to a king

the flag flies higher than the man

while a picture of magnificent land

can do more than memorialize the view

it can offer access to

a memory so severely true

that there is nothing left but all of us who loved you

it's all the same, they go on saying

drinking swinging singing playing

we're only as happy as we pretend to be

it could be worse, if we knew how we got here

secret handshakes between passion and fear

if theres nothing left to question how can we be free

summer storms keep on coming
the tyrant river keeps on drumming
and here we are, we are here you and me
what's next let's shoot the arrow
spin the wheel and step into the shallow
waters that that lay beneath our feet

time for us to change tomorrow
try and think of others sorrow
animals and plants swing to the same beat
share the sun don't hog the clouds
we're smaller in enormous crowds
we're larger when we fall asleep at night
into a dream of timeless bliss
where every star unlocks a wish
darkness ain't nothing without light

One day on a rockin’ chair I suspect I’ll recite my past to a young boy whose age I once was and I’ll likely never speak of it again. Rockin on the front porch, maybe fingering some wabi sabi guitar strings, knowing whatever is coming out of my mouth is gibberish, knowing it was all worth it.


Tomorrow I fly back to Maui. Tomorrow.  Aloha to all.