The Open Road

[photo by Mike Villa, Text by me]

This weekend has been wonderful & I have Kelsey, her family, MikeV, the random coffee baristas and kindly store owners to thank for that.

The open road stretches before me, quiet, unassuming. The rain falls softly. I open all the windows and sun roof, listening to a mixed CD of both my friends' and professional popular artists' music.
I am peaceful inside.

California (and the stress I left there (momentarily)) secretes from my skin along with the sweat. Lips are dry. Skin scrapes off in dirty particles like a pilling sweater. My makeup creases around my eyes, melts on my cheeks and forehead. Kelsey's mom does not approve. She tries to convert me.

So many adventures, too much excitement and wonder to really describe.
When there are so many "moments"--all I can do is make a list... though as detailed as I can convince myself to articulate!!!!

Photo shoots with Sisters Heng
(in the) 100+ degree heat
(but thank God!) Coffee (sometimes hot) three times a day.
--> At least one new coffee house a day: Dunkin Donuts, Lux, Copper Star
Then: Used record stores/weird stores/weird people/weird Kelsey/weird me
Punctuated by: Long drives=my slowly emptying head and heart
Once, twice: The empty, noisy Lightrail
Littered with: Candid photos
-->Kelsey playing camera peek-a-boo
The anarchist library/Orange/Joey the Anthro-film major/Mikey with the homemade tattoos, my instant friend
Pissing off the baristo at Copper Star

It goes by in a flash--but my mind is taking notes. I fall silent from time to time, my wheels whirling away, attempting to remember every detail, fill in every pixil. And then I'm back on the road, racing the sun Westward. The earth is pink, gray and tan until Cochella where green crops up again, the heat climbing to 112 F before dropping the other side of the chocolate-chip covered mountains. I love this world. I love the dry places: Anasazi Territory to Mojave Territory, the former Northern Mexico. I love the relentless sun, the beautiful sparkling asphalt and sand, the shrubbery that could be from the Austrailian Outback. As much as I want to leave this country, as much as I loved leaving the State, I can't deny-->I love this earth, this beautiful country. I love the places full of turqouise and sandstone of woven baskets and sweltering weather, sweaty thighs on cowhide, hair that doesn't stick to dry lips, night that just feels like darkened day.