Dust

Hour ten. I-70.

The beginning of the transition to numbness, the liminal moment of a road trip where you are too far to turn back and too close to stop for the day. You got up early, ate a filling breakfast, and have been stopping only to fill the tank. You aren't yet at the point of hallucinatory fatigue.

The drive is smooth and straight, and the landscape is a rolling gray-green, a red barn or silo every so often. The drive is an extended classical ambience, like the instrumentals in Moby's When It's Cold I'd Like to Die. Cars drift close behind, break slightly as they shift lanes, and very slowly drift ahead. If you weren't moving they would essentially be passing at one miles per hour.

A compact SUV passes in front of you at a distance. The driver's window lowers and a white cloud emerges and begins dissipating. In a few seconds, you drive through the transparent veil of dust. Thousands or tens of thousands of particles enter the front grill of your car, a large percentage immediately wiping out on the metal innards. The remainder enter the air intake for the interior fan and bounce through the plastic tubes until they emerge from an interior vent. Another large amount wipe out on the interior, and your clothes, and your skin. The remainder wind up in your nose, bouncing through the fleshy tubes, into the blood stream to the brain.

The back of your head prickles with gooseflesh; your hearing sounds like listening through cotton; your pupils pulse. You become aware of the various materials of the car stretching and sighing. Clouds appear to form and burst. The sunlight trickles through them causing shadow waves, like on the bottom of a riverbed. Your car passes into an extended shadow wave, the shade immediately perceptible to all senses. You shiver.

You aren't in a hurry, but you are on the run. The objective is to stay one step ahead. Sometimes you feel like a giant fleeing a human; the slowness of a single step is all that's needed to stay out of reach. The time between steps can seem long and become comfortable until the pursuer is spotted at a distance. Death approaches patiently, unperturbed. You can feel the proximity and know the time has come to move again. Time to take the next step.

Prius State of Mind / Interpersonal Space

The human body can seem like a hybrid vehicle. The engine is like the body and the battery is the mind. The engine activates when the body is in action; when idling, the battery cycles on. The battery only supplements the engine when intensive action is happening.

Often in daily activity one might find they are operating on autopilot, the engine caries one to a destination with little cognizance of the journey. An obstacle that requires more than the normal effort snaps the battery out of its rest, and the brain is engaged.

Additionally, the battery cycling on when at a standstill is perhaps like the brain having the chance to consciously examine things that normally pass by quickly when the body is in motion.

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When going to the space of another artist or group of artists, it's not about your art unless there is agreed upon collaboration. When allowed in another artist's creative space the focus should be on their art.

In a Ship In a Bottle

My favorite part of the highway are the different "over-sized load"s that come my way. I can usually never tell what they belong to. I thought about Native American tribes and if they were to still migrate as they used to, in this day and age, perhaps they would construct tepees on flatbed 18-wheelers and migrate that way. What a sight to see.

At night, I've been driving over ten hours straight. In the final stretch my mind blanks and I see things. I wouldn't call it sensory deprivation and yet I'm just sitting here and everything is moving around me. In my rear view mirror my string of pine cones appear very much to be the heads of passengers since it's too dark to make out any features. I suppose I'm not alone.

And against the night sky are plumes jutting out from man-made volcanoes. The uppermost wisps take forms, like ducks, before dissipating. The plumes alternate colors from shades of blue to red against a deep blue sky that appears to be just as shallow, like a layer of paint on a wall. I leave this quickly.

I see the shadow of a front bumper, the sort you see on police cars. It is a normal white car pretty dirty with a sticker of a stag on the rear. I know that some old police cars get auctioned off and I see no extra attached mirror, so I don't know what to make of it for sure. Checking out the license plate for the state it's from, it says "EXEMPT." 'There's no state called "exempt,"' I think to myself. 'What kind of state is called exempt? What sort of business do they do there?' And I look at the bottom and see "Wyoming." They should really put the state name where it usually is. I didn't know if they would have jurisdiction in Colorado so I kept my nose clean.

I feel like a ship suspended on a bottle. I don't know what emotions go with that - probably some anxiety, longing, detachment from reality. College is about leaving, constantly dropping situations (classes, vacations, schools). I need something steady. It's getting really hard to keep leaving.

Kellye

Kellye said she was going to break up with her boyfriend when she goes back to school. It feels strange knowing that something is going to happen before it does, like seeing a movie based on a book you've read. This doesn't really involve me, though, so I don't feel too affected by it. Still, it's a strange feeling.

We had another long hang out, the first one since we did mushrooms together, which was the first hang out of the season. The trip was good and she felt she learned a lot, about herself and time, of course. It was much more mind oriented than I have experienced, and I attribute that to her. That's how it was in brief.
This final goodbye took us to Braum's for iced cream, but I didn't eat much of mine because I took a Focalin because I thought she'd be on Adderall. She hadn't brought any home so she was off it while I was on. Not what I expected, but it was also interesting in a humorous way. I started talking to a guy in line who had a cousin working there and we all started talking about things that probably made them think I was on something. We sat and talked for hours.
We got lost trying to drive back to my house so she could see the dogs and I could grab my coat. I was so focused that I forgot I had a GPS.
After that we went to Brookhaven and wandered around. The whole place looked so different than it does during the daytime. Kellye said it seemed more magical because it was night or because I was there, and it seemed so, I could vividly recall being back on that Tuesday when we jumped out of time's track. We drank some and made our way to the car and sat in the backseat and talked more while the radio played. Then we cuddled and she said I was of a different breed of skinny boys because I wasn't uncomfortable to lay on, but perhaps everyone cuddles differently and our bodies remember the way other people cuddle so it works. So we cuddled and that was enough.

Dandelion focuses on and lives in the now and I wanted to apply that in my own life, and I think I'm slowly exploring it. It kind of takes the sting out of life.

Camping

Currently listening to:
In the Morning
Norah Jones

"Now the cities we live in could be distant stars
And I search for you in every passing car."
*****
Another late post. It seems in college I won't be able to focus to record daily events as they happen.

Well, Friday I got the scores back for my biology test (95) and calculus test (80). I need to work a bit more on math, I guess. Carly and I had planned a one-on-one camping trip and it actually happened. We left on Saturday after eating and getting some orange juice and soy milk to go. We decorated my car with feathers and a string of pine cones and loaded an old swivel living room chair along with our blankets and such. Kiersten, our RA, caught us before we left and let us borrow her tent.
Then we went to a thrift store called "Thrift Store" to look for one of those aged iconic sweaters with blocky pictographs of trees or houses on it. There was nothing like that, but Carly found an 80s/90s jacket that looks like something my mom would have worn. I bought a "drug rug" which is the closest thing they had to a Mexican poncho. I really want one of those blanket ponchos with the head slit you slip on. And then we left.
We drove around an hour and a half into the mountains, stopping the while to barefoot the Poudre river and collect wood. After looking down a couple dirt roads, we found a nice spot surrounded by trees and with two fire pits: a large one and a small baby one. The tent ended up next to the small one. Farther down the dirt road since of erosion appeared and large roots seemed to have grown along the surface; the road sort of curved and became more vertical as it did so until it evened out at the next camping spots and eventually the main road. Each camp spot had some wood to take from, and I saw many stumps. During the night I actually heard campers pulling in nearby start chopping at trees. There should probably be a law against that.
So we built a fire and drank kava and cooked dinner and opened some alcohol. I turned on the car so we could listen to Regina and Grizzly Bear and Norah Jones. Once it got dark I felt like I was twirling in space because it was too dark to see the ground and the slope caused missteps which sent me facing the other direction. I gathered a bunch of pine cones and tossed them into the fire and they caught fire on the bottom, a little crystal of light on each platform shelf. Tier by tier the flames move upward until the cone is engulfed and burned until there's nothing more to burn, and each shelf retains a bright glow. The whole thing falls with a touch. It was so dark so quickly that we decided to turn in. The fire was smoldering and we used up one gallon of water so we left it, and it was still smoldering by morning.
She's a little snorer;I didn't get a lot of sleep. I had to unroll my sleeping bag later when it became much colder. In the morning we saw a chipmunk scamper near our site. Carly set up her chair in the woods with the framed owl stitched art and thin floor mat, to photograph. I think the ones with her in them are the best, but she liked the idea of the empty chair. Then we loaded up and went to see the spot where I did my vision quest. I think she was impressed with the view. I still have to write up the short story version of it, but I finished the poem. After that, we headed back. That's all I can think of right now.

Summer Skin/Arrival

Some more things from the drive, including the last hundred miles into campus on Thursday:

1. Bug death; each time I got gas I cleaned the windshield and right when I started driving again, bugs cast themselves against the glass. I do believe there is a way of flying which spares most of them, but then again, it would be the way the current flows over the car at that time. At the same time, I passed through a butterfly meadow and they smacked left and right, leaving smears of body on the shield. The 18-wheeler in front of me left a road covered in cloudless sulphers (probably) which would flutter their one working wing. I hope they didn't suffer long. That's the first time I've been down a road with so much insect life in it.

2. Then there's the oversize load vehicles carrying huge empty spools, or giant spheres, or vats of pickles or something. They're never very obvious as to what they belong to as a whole. Sometimes I wonder if the government is building something and they increased the proportions so that it wouldn't be obvious as to what it is in part.
*****
I got in and there was heavy traffic because the town is small and the lanes are few. After some hours in line, I swirled around and got a spot in the lot next to my dorm. Moved in with my roommate and his father's help.
The dorm is a single room. We got lucky and ended up next to a janitorial closet, so its just a two person room with its own bathroom. The shower is large. The mirror and sink are directly next to the door when you enter. There is a housekeeping service once a week.

There was some programming and food and a carnival. Basically everyone I met is a freshman, I haven't come across any dorm-living transfers or upper classmen. The group I was hanging out with found out I was 21 (even though I openly mentioned it) and sort of teased me about hanging out with them. So I chill-ly asked why it mattered since I was new. I don't think I'll live in dorms after this year ends.

The days are warm and the nights are very cool and I've seen clouds in such detail I had never seen in Texas. There are very many trees here and one spot called "Sherwood Forest" which contains a specimen of every native tree in Colorado.

The cafeterias are all-you-can-eat madness. Swarms mobbing counters and grabbing seats. It will be interesting to see the dynamic once people get into their school schedules and can't eat as a floor any longer.

I'm still waiting to sign up for my calculus class so I can go buy the material, hopefully before the first day of class. I met a girl named Carly whom I vaguely remembered from the lame meet the hall activity. She seems pretty hippie-ish, but I don't really know her yet. Also, another girl named Shannon keeps popping up. Since it's impossible to find people on facebook without a last name, I'm going to get numbers.

Today I got lost, as I'm sure I will much more often. It was after the major fair where I learned both philosophy and English departments have a lack of clubs to join. Then on the way to the dorm I got lost and found one of the guys from behind the philosophy table who is a grad student who gets free housing and class in exchange for TA duties. So we discussed philosophy and got on the topic of ethnobotanicals and schizophrenics and the such. He has a curly beard.

So, here's some more pictures from the road and my side of the dorm:

Leaving

Currently listening to:
Mrs. Cold
Kings of Convenience

Last night I packed fully. It's strange how easy it is to not pack when you're nervous about leaving.

Then I woke up at 7 AM and loaded the car. I've seen so much in such a short time that I stopped seeing. It will probably be easier to do minor summaries. I phrased everything very well in my head while driving, but now I'm tired so I'll do my best.

Rubber debris blackens the road in front of me so I know a tire burst at some point. The 18-wheeler in front of me edges off the road, one of the front tires missing its rubber, the steel scraping along.

18-wheelers, like giant chess pieces, careen by, swirling the air into a fist which rips past me and sounds like a sword slicing through thick fabric.

A highway was under repair. One of the two lanes was being replaced so both directions of traffic had to take turns on 6.5 miles of one lane. Those not in the front had little idea what they were waiting for.

I pass little towns less and less frequently. Despite it being the middle of the week and in the afternoon, most stores are closed. These far in between towns are the only available refueling points between the large cities. Honestly it felt like they were dying; they shrivel up with the economy and those that can get away go to the concentrated large cities. What this means for people trying to travel in the sparse West, I'm not sure.

The landscape of the high plains of Texas was surprisingly hilly with tree clusters. This turned into flatland which turned into a sort of grassland with plateaus. The scarcity of humanity crept up on my after a time and were it not for my phone, I might have gone crazy. The lack of towns and the vastness of nature greatly unnerved me and at times I thought it would go on forever. Signs were also absent, as if those living out here don't think in terms of miles.

By the end of the day I had driven twelve hours and probably an extra seventy-five miles than planned, looking for a suitable motel. Everyone stopped texting me since I'd pestered them all day. They got me through the day, though - so thanks, guys! The sky at the end of the day was full of cirrus and stratus clouds which looked like innumerable fish skeletons on the horizon.

Tomorrow I move into CSU. Crap.

Mirror Studies

I don't think this is something unique to me, but is something everyone does conscious or no. When I look in the mirror, at myself, I never fully see myself. I don't really look at myself to see myself, there's always some goal that narrows my vision. If I check my hair, I see that region; if I wash my face, I see spots one at a time. I think its interesting that I have a hard time taking in my complete physiognomy. If I didn't have the same trouble when looking at other people's faces, I might assume it was because I only look in a mirror once a day - inexperience.

Mirrors have been a big deal with writers, I think. There's something very unusual and unearthly about them. Reflections we can deal with, because they are only ghosts, phosphorescent memories; mirrors present the hard duplicate and bring up questions of reality. How can such a thin piece of material contain such depth of environment? How thin is the depth of our environment? I don't know, man.

Finally, there was this girl in a car at a stop light. She looked in the windshield mirror, perhaps directly at me, then at herself, checking her face for some bit of error. The windshield mirror filled entirely with her field-of-wheat golden hair as she turned her attention to the driver-side mirror. Not much fits in that mirror because of its enlarging quality, so I saw dark, curt sunglasses and lips held together and strays of blown hair. This mirror did not content her and she turned back to the windshield mirror to stare through me, then caress her hair. When she looked from the driver-side mirror, she turned towards it before turning the other direction, as if preparing for a running start. The slight turn caused a blinking of light as the sun's rays touched and became attached to the track of her nose ring. If it made a sound I imagine it would be like a sword sliding across a piece of metal.

Interesting stuff.

Another Good Day at Work

Currently listening to:
Sparrow
Simon and Garfunkel

Today Ford Motor Company came to TRAC for some company retreat and after they left, they paid for all other visitors and hired a snow cone car to give out free refreshments.

Different sort of job during all of this; I was a model. All the interns dragged canoes and kayaks to the visible pond and paddled around from 10:30 to 1. I guess I can say I have "atmosphere" experience now. I didn't get sunburned and didn't get tipped into the pond by the young interns. I must have paddled incorrectly because the joint between my thumb and fingers got raw.

Then was lunch. Ford took over our kitchen and closets (they shoved chefs in the closet and had them chopping things), and once they were done eating we descended like locust. There was tons of vegetarian food this time, and we all got many boxes to take home. This turned out to be a good thing because I locked my car keys in the car. While I was emptying my pockets of things the pond might ruin, I set the keys on the driver seat and forgot them.
So, my mom and sister came and I showed them around and gave my mom a dinner she wouldn't have to cook. She gave me her key so I could have one in each pocket, in case it happens again.

Came home and showered at five. Something about the water on my raw thumb spots made them hurt very much. Sort of a stinging pain and a feeling that my skin was expanding and contracting again and again. It hurt, but I thought it was actually an exquisite hurting, an artful pain; stinging without actually being serious. I don't know. I'll recognize it more in the future.

It's raining so I'm not going to class. I tagged Dandelion when I started writing, but I can't remember why; If I remember I'll comment it. She's just preoccupied lately. I hope we play tennis or watch my movie which came in.

Master Naturalist Field Trip

Currently reading:
The Last Unicorn
Peter Beagle

Last one!
So I drove all the way to a far end of Fort Worth, and I have to say it would have been near impossible without my sister's GPS unit. There's a lot to see in the nothingness of that part of Fort Worth, so it's nice not having to constantly read the MapQuest sheet; things like wild sunflowers growing from storm drains and unique local businesses.

We were there to see different aquatic ecosystems. First we went invertebrate sampling in a marsh which is what I do at work anyway. Then we went seining in a river, or maybe it was a creek. I hadn't brought extra clothes so I tried to stay dry, but the bottom was full of drops and I ended up swimming. After that, we went to a pseudo-lake for more swimming and seining.

Notes of interest:
Our guide sort of behaved and spoke in the same tone as Harrison Ford.

Swimming with a complete set of clothes on feels very strange, like there should be weight but there is none. The water is everywhere, in and around, and it pushes my clothes around like reeds. The clothes brush me and move away, creating a feeling like being in a crowded hall with people sliding by, barely touching. It's also like being given a light embrace, a watery hug.
I want to go skinny dipping.

To get between the various locations, all fifteen of us piled in the cab and bed of this monster truck. I stayed in the bed every time because there's something about it that really gets me going. The wind whips around us as we push forward and yet we're just sitting. I think riding in the back combines the comfort of being still on a bench with the excitement of riding a motorcycle and having everything so immediate to you.
Then the surroundings are always opening up and folding back down as we drive, almost like turning the page of a pop-up book. The rides were very exciting for me.
I think my dying wish will be to ride in the bed of a truck one last time to see and feel it all.

During the entire six hour field trip, the only water I had was a little thermos I brought with my lunch. By the end of the day, the last truck ride, I felt very relaxed and dehydrated but cool because of the wind. I found specific things in the environment very fascinating and I kept staring at everything. The pop-up book perspective was even more exaggerated because of the lack of water. I'll have to look into experimenting with this type of altered consciousness some time.

Since I had no clothes to change into, I just stripped down and drove home. The car was actually much more comfortable without clothes on.

Got a call from Dandelion. We were both highway driving, except hers was empty. She said she would make a map of her hometown for when I'm able to go see it. I wish she could come and show me. I hope she has a fun adventure at the wedding tonight.

Parents are out of town until Tuesday night, so I've got the rest of the day to myself. Mom has been getting stressed over nothing (she actually said she didn't know why). Seems like every time I talk to her, she ends up raising her voice for some reason. I don't think she likes the way I speak.

Can I Sleep Now?

Currently listening to:
Gray or Blue
Jaymay

In the center of this song is a stanza sung in vocals I can't understand and I hadn't thought to actually look it up until now:

Charming
Crazy eyes have you
Are they gray or blue?
I won't make the move
You must make the move
If you make the move
I will then approve
If you do not move
We will surely lose...

Interesting. It's like finding a secret track on a CD.
*****

This other intern at work, named Andy, said he never feels hungry. If he eats some cereal for breakfast, he's good for the day; but when people around him say it's time for lunch or dinner, he goes along to eat because he likes food. However, if he doesn't eat breakfast he gets hungry around lunch or dinner time. Maybe if he didn't need to eat along with not feeling hungry, I might be jealous. As is, it's kind of scary to not be hungry: you never know when it is you need to eat or how much to eat. Yikes.

At lunch the children were very rowdy; it's getting harder to control them. I'm glad tomorrow is their last day.

All the good food has disappeared. I don't know where all that Panera and doughnuts and snack bars have gone, but all we have are the gallons and gallons of orange juice.. What I have noticed a lot of in both refrigerators is alcohol. There are bottles of vodka lying around, some without lids, and beer and stuff left over from whatever business meetings are booked at the center. On days like this where the units have been pilfered of everything good, all that's really left are old leftovers and the alcohol. I think it's quite a funny sight, sort of like saying, "see what the educators need to get through the day?"
*****

I've noticed a lot more larger cars since I've been driving Aethon. This is probably because I've been so low to the ground all this time and only recognizable SUVs stand out, like Hummers (grr). Anyway, now that I'm at a higher viewpoint, the shapes are suddenly revealed to be neighbor large cars; and I have become another shape to the smaller cars. I bet the bigger cars think the smaller cars look up to and admire them, but it's really not true.

-Friends in places so high they can't be seen-

To New Beginnings

Currently Listening to:
In Between Days
The Cure

Friends,
Once more I take up the art of blogging. After seeing my middle/high school LiveJournal again, the nostalgia of the mundane really hit me so I felt a strong inclination to begin again, for future reminiscence.

The progression I have noticed since the days of LiveJournal and Xanga (though they still exist so those days must still be happening for someone) is that the patience and sincerity of relating things has severely diminished. Myspace and Facebook have the option of blogging, but they really aren't set up for anything greater than spontaneous one-liner statuses. I guess most of the people from that older time are lazy or "have no time" to blog, though they have time to keep refreshing their Facebook page.. Anyway, I hope to regain something of that past here, on this platform new to me.

Gosh. I thought a lot about what I would say for my first entry, but all that's coming back to me is a vague summary. I think that's how it is with writers; that's why they always have a notepad on their respective body.
*****
Well- I think it would be good to toss in a couple pictures:


My room, without all the sheets on, on a rainy day. You can't really tell but it was very green outside. All the plants were excited and radiant and their aura washed into the room and bounced off my bed sheet.



Here's my new old car: a 2004 Toyota Highlander. It's a smooth ride with average fuel efficiency. When the sun hits it, it looks a lot more gold-colored. I named it Aethon after one of the steeds that pulls Helios' chariot (the sun) across the sky. I bet Scott would like that.

*****

Last night, Dandelion and I exchanged mix tapes. I love the familiarity and meaningfulness of hers. I hope mine met whatever expectations she had.

I also fully started my Summer II schedule. I work from 8-3:30 or so and have class after that until 8:10, then is homework. I'll find a way to fit in what's important.