TENT LIFE AND A TRANSITION IN TIME
On my return from the West I came to Bloomington, Indiana. I wanted to continue college courses. But, I came so late, broke and beat, that I had not anywhere to live. Neither did Darrel. We left every thing we had for the open road. But, now I’m back and have little to nothing to cling on to.
We pitched two small tents in the backyard of good friends. Here below the pine tree, tiki torches lit up the night. The fall season is a wonderful time to be. But, before fall came, I went bouncing down the highway in my Saab to NE Ohio. It was on its last leg. The engine shook and the exhaust barely held up. Two tires were worn down to metal threads. I drove country roads with the worry of breaking down.
I went to visit Diane, Steve and Babci in Amish Country. I spent a week there. Jokes were few and far between with my grandfather past. I rummaged through his old belongings and now some are mine. A chill went down my back when I looked at his old watch and saw that it had stopped at 9 pm on the 24th – the moment of his death. I am happy to see that 9 yards the cat is still alive. He must be 22 years old by now or more. My grandfathers dog, a bugle names Peanuts, ran away before his death. He never came back.
My old Saab never came back either. I put her to rest behind Diane and Steve’s farm. I drove back to Indiana looking more upbeat and stylish than ever in a 1996 Saab 900s convertible. It is a beautiful car. It matches the color of the summer sky.
On my return to Bloomington I prepared for classes and for a longer stay living the tent life in a backyard on the East side of Bloomington behind Vincent, Dimitiri and John’s home on Jefferson St. It is a transition that I am embracing and is a life of beauty. I set up a large tent beneath the pine tree. It stands 14 feet by 10 feet. It has two rooms. We built a floor out of old shipping crates and laid carpets and a beautiful centerpiece rug. We got a couple of bookshelves, a mini fridge, flowers, music, and futon mattresses. We built a kitchen and a beautiful creek rock patio off the front of the tent – porch light, table, stove and camping chairs.
It is a large backyard and when we have bonfires we yield many good friends. Once our fire was broken up by four firemen who ripped through our wooden fence. I was not sure what they were thinking nor did I know what Dimitiri was thinking when he held a banana over the fire and offered roasted banana to the chief.
Camping is amazing. We sleep with the crickets, in rainstorms, with a butterfly in our tent and with pines dancing in our skies. It is a gorgeous life. Life is good. I have been immersed in classes. I have learned to scuba dive and have been reading Ishmael and Charles Bukowski.
Feeling a lack of adventure, Darrel and I performed a late night rappel off the Indiana University Art Building. I obtained a key from the Director and we went up to the balcony and roped up around a steel support beam, stood high up on the ledge and dropped with my back to the Venus fountain. Such a gloriou feat!
Jennifer came to visit in early October. We feel in love with everything. I showed her the beauty of Bloomington. Tears fell as we drove beneath the cover of falling leaves, as we watched Debashish Bhattacharya in ecstasy at the Lotus Festival, as we listened to Dimitiri’s violin seducing us both, the dance, the guitars, visions of sound at the Firetower, bonfires and cops, and a get away to the Little’s cabin tucked in the woods and full of high vibes and outstanding music.
At the Lotus festival I unexpectedly ran into my parents. They live four hours north of here. It was strange as I hadn’t seen them for nearly a year and half. I was drunk and we made plans for breakfast. Breakfast was fine and they soon left town.
10.26.06 – tonight a battle within my mind broke loose. I felt all of Mother Nature’s pain as she cried for the unnatural world. I fell to the dirt. The weight of empathy and the crying rain pushed me down and I wept, too. I wept as my body dissolved into energy. I was gone and forever existed outside of the human body. It is blissful to be there.
There are two worlds in which I have traveled. One of space and the other I have no word for but conventional reality. I was in space – it is natural – and it took a part of me that may never return. If you want to be part of the earth and you have not been asked to be so, you can do this by not eating. There is nothing to prepare for. There is nothing to worry about. Pure and absolute bliss.
SOME DAYS LATER – tent life is good. Don’t hesitate. Our parties are wild, the relaxation is grand and I spend the morning drinking coffee and whiskey and brushing my teeth at the hose faucet. I am soon to move to Hawai’i. It is getting cold here. Hawai’I is a beautiful thought to warm my soul.
12.3.06 – I drove to Fairfield, Iowa. This was a horrid trip because of a blizzard. It took me 11 hours and I drove many hours at 20 mph on the highway. Between me and every horizon I saw semitrucks turned over and exit ramps with several cars trapped and plowed in to stay. Finally I made it late at night and walked into a upscale bar called Vivos and sit with Dave among the mellow mood of business men with no business to perform. Drinks were beautiful and free that night. The air cuts through you and the whiskey makes you tingle. Dave held up the owner of the bar for several hours saying she had to meet me. She was a beautiful woman of about 30 year of age and in my disillusionment I blew her off. She left quickly.
12.10.06 – I am tearing down my home as heaven tears from scalp to eyebrow to face – rain slides down my nose, onto my lips, tongue. It is leaking through the tent roof. It is time for this to go. It is a sad day.
I became blind and arrogant. Thank you for reminding me and opening my eyes. I am maturing and there are many more steps to go. Pacific water may quench my tongue and I promise All I will open my eyes. I will drink again.
