...I keep running into these sarcastic, depressing responses when I talk about the environment, pollution, the oil spill, human ignorance, anything like that --
"My life is hard enough without you hippies telling me I'm destroying Earth"
... you know, as if, by talking about the problem, I just become another voice resounding with the more-bad-news mainstream media driving America to drink booze and watch TV to find some relief. Well, I can adjust my voice. I'm not a cult fanatic with a megaphone. So my intention is to be entirely solution oriented -- I just want to hear some good news from people who care and are changing their own little lives to make things better, and I need a medium for my own crazy fucking head. So here it izzzzz...

Monday, July 26, 2010

Reggae on the Mountain




I'm back from the reggae festival, and the one picture really worth sharing is of this amazing old growth tree growing on top of the mountain where this festival happens. The people who own the land are total nature lovers who promote off-the-grid living and permaculture, and they guard some very special trees on the mountain. Isn't that something?

Anyway, I'm now officially in planning mode. I'll leave in just a few days. I need to make sure my bike is A-OK because 700 miles is a long way to go on a non-operational bike. I am inspired by a conversation I had at the jam with a guy who has been spending the last 14 years of his life on a bike-- traveling, going to festivals, sleeping in tents, and sometimes situating himself in a town for a bit to work (and rest, I assume). What a great character! I told him about my mini adventures of the past and hopeful future, and he was really appreciative and warm even though I felt kind of silly talking about a bike trip with someone who keeps all his belongings on the back of his bike. It's a whole nother level that I just can't even fathom.

It was validating. We talked about the dangers involved, and the number one is obviously cars, but we also covered the fun topic of women traveling alone. I have bones to pick here, all the time, and this new friend joined me in picking at them. He said he rarely, unfortunately, hears stories from women who actually went on their dream adventures, though he sometimes asks female bikers if they ever consider traveling by bicycle. He said that usually they have some desire, but one of the consistent remarks is that they lack the confidence to actually do it. Dude even read a book written by a woman who decided to go for it, and then was warned and warned by everyone, made to feel insecure, even told to take taxis through cities she didn't know well in order to avoid dangerous people.

Trevor (I remembered his name! Victory!) talked about the confidence and independence required to get something/anything started, and how devastating it is to have person after person shut it down -- it adds a level of insecurity. I just had to throw this on the table because I know it so well. Luckily I have supportive friends and family, but the truth is, the most common comment I've gotten is "travel with a guy friend, don't go alone." I mean, right, to which I smile and say, "yeah, maybe." And of course, it would be really fun to do this with a guy or girl friend, but if that isn't available it isn't a requirement. And not everyone is equally pack-oriented. I like doing things by myself, and I can't help it. Of course I'm very, very aware of the dangers involved, which basically consist of badguys and cars, and I am already meditating on the fears I will be confronting in the near future. I am grateful that I'll have a chance to work through some of them and get in touch with my own instincts on what is safe.

So, thank you Trevor for the props. I also just wanted to post the poem I performed at Tayberry, and eventually I'll get my other environment-related stuff up. This one does potentially use a melody (hence 'song', hence all the rhymes) but that would need to be worked on a lot before I threw i up anyplace public. Much love to everyone, and thanks for reading.

Earth Song
Dedicated to Tayberry Jam 2010

May I say only as much as I’m brave enough to sing
may I say only what’s right or may I say not a thing
the hippies had it right when they said
if you don’t live for freedom, you might as well be dead.

But as much as freedom solves it also poses a question
what good is our freedom if we use it for destruction?
Hold me to my words until I taste them
watch me spend my dollars and remind me not to waste them
I wanted freedom enough to have it stitched into my skin
but I don’t deserve to fly if I can’t operate my wings.

Do we feel free yet, or just proud of what we possess
do we know yet, that freedom comes by taking less?
A rocket into space won’t save our little lives of little worth
if we forget how to sing with our own mother Earth.

Because under the pavement, she is breathing
and with every breath her lungs fill with life
and break apart the concrete as though it were sand
Her oceans become water hands flowing through those cracks
rebuilding our cities with flowers
and redefining our lines and angles with delicate vines and tangles

there is a thought in every tree
the grasses whisper
nature sees

I felt her eyes; they followed me
as I wandered quietly.
The presence of her frightened me.

Then I heard-- what could it be?
I thought I heard her whispering
and I stopped, frozen, listening.
There was a voice that spoke to me:

My children have abandoned me
they fear me now
they murder me
They wish to rid themselves of me


I heard the pain, the suffering,
then overwhelming, heavy grief
with the silence that ensued.

"Mother, tell me what to do--
Protect me please, I'll care for you.
I want to be your child, too.
I don't want to abandon you..."

But only silence-- no reply.
Just wind, just wind, or did she sigh?
there is a thought in every tree
the grasses whisper,
nature sees


One day my lungs will fill with earth
and only flowers will grow from my mouth
May I practice for that day by breathing out
sweet green songs for mother Earth’s rising up.

May my words be deeper than their form
may my words be deeper than their form
may I say no more than I’m brave enough to sing,
may I sing ‘till I can sing no more.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

An Essay About Planning, and, a Plan


I'm realizing, not for the first time, that I am a terrible trip planner. It feels like this has something to do with being obnoxiously unpunctual, too impatient to stand in lines, wanting to create perfect harmony in my life here before I leave for somewhere else (HAH! Good luck, Xandra), maybe my tendency to be distracted by every lovely person who I have a conversation with. But don't worry, folks, somehow intention is strong enough to even get a ball of craziness like me rolling.

But it's interesting to think about. I've spent a good part of the last year talking with my brother, who is diagnosed with schizophrenia, but is also amazingly articulate and even logical. To him, life, it seems, just happens, and he is always swept with the strongest nearby current, and ends up briefly washed onto the shore of other people's dreams and decisions. He was catatonic for several months, and he would have starved to death had it not been for people around him deciding to feed him. I am at a different extreme, usually, in which I dream up distant goals and keep my eyes on them as I take steps forward, making sure every moment is somehow connected in that bigger picture. Since I have lots of dreams, I sway as I walk, sometimes moving towards art, sometimes to the forest, sometimes to the love of people... the last year I realized, though, that my brother's version of life is also true. I can't carry out my dreams exactly, only roughly, because life happens and pushes me in all kinds of unexpected directions. Somehow it's always right, though.

This last weekend, I performed poetry with the Eugene Slam Team at the Oregon Country Fair. Three days in campsite of spoken word artists, tramping around on miles of fairgrounds with some 45,000 Pacific Northwesterners, it has a way of changing things a little. I am at a coffee shop now, looking around between sentences and suddenly feeling overjoyed and blessed to live here. My poetry team was asked to perform at one more Oregon festival, the Tayberry Jam (Reggae on the Mountain) on the weekend of July 23-25th. Tayberry is all about sustainability, permaculture, and mother Earth, and I think it will be an excellent experience to set me off right, because my journey this summer is not just about visiting my people on the East Coast and having fun, but about exploring America and trying to understand what is happening to our Earth.

I felt so cynical this year, like the planet really was going to die, like oceans would turn black soon and skies turn yellow, and I realized that what I need is to hear solutions from normal people. I want to hear people say 'I quit drinking bottled water', or 'This last year I started biking because I don't want to be part of the problem anymore.' I am not interested in delusions, like I've heard some people talk about -- I do not think it's about being the one to start some grand revolution, or rediscovering white magic and asking fairies for help, or about turning ourselves into cyborgs that will be able to handle the changing environment-- these are things I've heard -- I think I just need to hear people talk about their personal solutions, or what inspires them. Fucking basic. I want to NOT give up on life, please, and I want some guidance, and that's all.

So here is my travel plan (which will be off by a few days here and there)

July 27-Aug 10: Biking from Eugene-San Francisco
August 12-14: Hitch rides to LA, California, to visit a certain animal lover who I am so stoked to meet
August 15-20: Get to TX, meet with my friend Blake who would like to explore with me. Explore, volunteer, talk to people.
August 20-25th: Who knows? Visit a few more friends and keep on.
August 25-September 1: Make my way to DC, revisit my childhood home, see my old friends, and talk to a few more people.

I am hoping to raise money on the way selling some poetry, but otherwise I'll be pretty dirt poor, so let's hope the Universe takes good care of me.