jigg'n nova scotia days

day 7 (?) now of my life as an Otesha nomad.
This past week has been a whirl-wind of new faces, new thoughts and ideas, and new places...
if I could describe the trip this far...I would....but I will make due presently by writing these following words to sum up all of the bursting things inside of me...
courage
transformation
intentionality (is this a word..if not...let's pretend)
courage
feeling every fibre in my body

we have spent the past couple of days in an intensive training week for the upcoming bike tour...we cycle out tomorrow! our first stint is 55kms. a big distance for our first go.
the week has consisted of team discussions and consensus-building acitivies...play practice...skinny dipping...camping in hurricane weather ...biking...biking....stretching...biking...cliff-bar snacking...and irish jig dancing...(check out "the smok'n contras").....!

everything requires such an intentional spirit...maslow's heirarchy is very much on my mind here...as most of my time is spend meeting my body's basic needs...keeping dry...eating well...keeping spirits up...

all I can say is I feel healthy and alive...everyone has flushed-rosey cheeks and fresh eyes...and I feel so very present in every moment...something that my confused and anxious heart is in desperate need of.

Here's a snippet of my journal...(apologies for spelling/grammar errors)

sept 2nd..10pmish...
I'm officially welcomed by Otesha. After squirming around in my very small tent for much too long, I find myself with some time to write a few thoughts and things to remember. The reflections and shillouettes of large-creepers dance around on the outside of my tent as i write. This may interfere with my abilities to sleep here with ease.
We arrived in Halifax 4 nights ago. After a the train ride I am feeling quite bonded to my travelling parteners. Together we have sung folk tunes together of candlelight, had many a delicious beer, moved in and out of an apartment and faced the challenges of preparing for our two-month bike trip.
The mountaing are enourmous and my thighs need some coaxing and methodical mental power to cycle them through the inclines. I have never known such immense inclines. On our first ride together I proceeded to fall off my bicycle, fully-loaded because I wasn't yet adjusted to my toe-clip-ins. Thus, my wrist is a wee bit soar from the fall.
Our first stop is training week, taking place at an Urban-Agriculture learning centre. The founder (and generational land-keeper) told us vivd stories of life here in the 19th century...about a woman (her grandmother) who burried here unsuccesful bread in the garden, to find it risen like a giant mushroom in the soil the next morning...about folk-lore of the "old hags" that haunt East-Coasters at night..pinning them down in their beds and vanishing through the walls. The farm-keeper told us that she desperately wanted to communicate with the "old hags" of her house...offering them paper and a typewriter to compose messages.

Everyone seems to be full of life here...or at least willing to face adventure.
I'm strangely positive...
I am so very present here.

....

more to come
wishing peace and winds to push you in the right direction...

boat lute dent

since the last post was all about poetry...
perhaps we can have some audience participation.
can anyone make a little poem out of these scrabble words?

lute
boat
dent
lune
want


hehe.

Free Spirit Days Over?

Today is August 7th. Pretty much 20 days before I embark on my little adventure across the east coast. Two months of cycling awaits me...and I'm sure many many days of back cramps, sweat patches, and rainy clouds hanging over my head. I'm sure these months will also hold amazing vistas, inspiring people...and perhaps a shift of perspective..and a new take on the road ahead? I think so.
Every time I think about the fact that this happening in less than a month my stomach flips a little bit...and I start to think about how I can start waterproofing everything I own.
I said goodbye to my wee "free spirit" vintage bike yesterday...sad party. I really felt like we had a bond considering we were both babes of 1985.
Should I write it a wee poem?...a eulogy?

O, royal blue
I rode you
even when I had the flu
Your spokes and grease
gave me limited peace
now you are back with John
that Slovakian pawn (broker)
Fare thee well
and never do tell
of those secret late night trips
where we found ourselves ill-equipped
to....fall in love with each other...

hmmm...that was less than mediocre.

apologies free spirit.

So, I would love to post photos...but I am missing my camera cord....so as soon as that is found, I will share.

On another note...The Ocean awaits! I'm excited to dip my feet in salty water and smell the Halifax air...

Wendell Berry writes a sweet little poem about the ocean and a farmer...
here is a portion:

The sea always arriving,
hissing in pebbles, is breaking
its edge where the landsman
squats on his rock. The dark
of the earth is familiar to him,
close mystery of his source
and end, always flowering
in the light and always
fading. But the dark of the sea
is perfect and strange,
the absence of any place,
immensity on the loose.
-Wendell Berry

hmmm...wendell...you sweet old man, you.

More to come.

The New Speak.....

The Lipstick of 2008

Random.



Steff the Sauna Builder.



2008.



Lips.



Dancing Heads.



Notice the Delicious Crumb in the Foreground.

The Windy City: II

J and the Dots.




This...



is this!



i want one.



Sean's Art.

The Windy City

spiiiiiral.



neon.



black and white at the museum of contemporary art.



bikes.



chicago fire escapes.



accordian player.



snakes.



oh my! you should eat.



Cashew! Gesundhiet!



Clown Chapeaux



To be Inside a Belly



Lene