Day One

On deciding to challenge myself to 30 days of at least two pages of writing:

Working title: Transforming the Mundane

There was this moment when, by virtue (probably) of my wanting a drastic change in my life, I lost my house and job. I had about 200 bucks. I think that there was a sense of relief, as the question “how am I going to extricate myself from this situation?” was definitely at the forefront of my thoughts and had been for some time.

I ran into Nina last night, and I was honest about needing some work, and that I wasn’t sure what the next thing was. She advised that I stop thinking and start knowing the next thing is coming.

I’ve been kept alive by doing some landscaping and hanging art, but fall is here, and I’m definitely low on the totem pole at the art installation company. And I’m not great at the art thing just yet.

At the club last night, a young woman joined me sitting on a couch. I was pleasantly entertained, and wore a pleasant smile. So, appearing harmless at that moment, the lady engaged me in some banter. She had a pleasant face, and the fuller figure of a woman who probably had a desk job and a somewhat sedentary lifestyle.

“I’m on a first date,” she confided as though I were making a guest appearance in her dream, and giving some context to her forthrightness.
“Oh? Going well?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Where is he?”
“In the bathroom.”

I felt as though she was prompting me to approve of the date, so I stayed sitting by her until her date returned from the bathroom. I deepened my smile, and gave a nod of assent. He had kind eyes, and showed genuine interest in my new friend. Task completed, I joined ‘Berto near the bar.

I wasn’t feeling being social last night. My hesitance partially motivated by needing a night off drinking. Yes, if you go to a bar, you end up having a drink. My friends were playing their monthly DJ night at DaDa Art Bar.

‘Berto and I biked to the venue. As usual, a route from our place to downtown was discussed. We discussed any direct route that avoided traffic while simultaneously being very direct to our destination. I returned home that night via the Cripple Creek trail, passing only one homeless person, and one other bicyclist who had no lights.

The last two years of my life rebirthed me. When faced with the death of my laptop, and the obvious fact that I had not been working enough, not charging enough, and probably drinking too much for 2 years. In fact, Asheville, North Carolina, other than housing my son, had not agreed with my evolution. That is, until the town ousted me into the arms of the open road. Johnny had gone trimming in California the year before, and despite his asthma, he was returniing again this year to give himself that infusion of cash. Needing a new computer as badly as someone like me, I said yes and began this journey. Goal: perhaps to develop a different kind of travel show, make some cash, and adventure through the country. I stopped in Nashville to visit Davey, jumped a plane and flew into Denver.

Once I arrived in Denver, I met with everyone from my life before Asheville. Lovers, patrons, friends, siblings.

Okay, I’ve just taken a break to read the “news” from the Apple iOS news app. Super disappointing. Celebrities in tristes or bikinis graced the supposed personalized news feed. You don’t know me very well, do you?