Visit, but not live.

Karl and the Bear's tooth - 062616

I travel a lot for pleasure and work.  One of my first reactions when I get to a nice place is to think if I would want to live there.  I look at what life would be like there, including, housing, entertainment, work, art, etc., all the things worth living for in a place.  Almost all the time, the answer is the same, great place to visit, but not to live.


Last week I was in Montana, and I mean IN.  I drove over 2200 miles in that state in 7 days and rarely repeated the same section of road.  I saw Glacier National Park, Fort Peck Dam, Yellowstone National Park, and drove through the big Montana cities of Missoula, Kalispell, Helena, Great Falls, Bozeman, and Billings.  Some how I missed Butte, one of the greatest gems in America, but I've been there quite a bit.

I grew up in Montana and still have family there.  I visit it twice per year to help out on my parents' land and around the home.  I love that state.  It is a part of me, my heart, my loins, my art, my spirit, but...  it isn't home anymore.

I looked at what it would be like to live in Great Falls, Butte, and Red Lodge.  I explored so many options, but in the end I realized, I left their in 1997 for a reason.

There are many reasons I prefer the Bay Area and Las Vegas, but to list them would seem anti-Montana and kind of mean.  I love that state and am glad I can visit it and love it.

On a side note, this photo was taken at 10,800 feet in elevation near the top of the Beartooth Pass.  It is one of my spiritual homes.  I treated myself to a short hike (air is thin and hiking is hard there) and meditated for 15 minutes.

I closed my eyes and focused on breathing.  I tried to be present to all the senses other than vision.  I got lost in that world and forgot where I was.  As my timer went off telling me my 15 minutes were up, I opened my eyes and this was the scene before me.  I started weeping from the grandeur of the moment and my being a small part of it.  I felt so alive after that.  In another post, I will tell you about the clouds above me and how they die.

PS - The mountain range is named after the tiny, craggy, tooth shaped peak you can see at the top far right of the image, the last little point along the horizon before hitting the photo's edge.

Overstaying my welcome

Delta Sign - 121411

Back in college our group of friends would take turns hosting parties.  There would usually be a dozen or so of us laughing, dancing, arm wrestling, drinking, eating, toking, making out, joking, and then repeat.  Each party was a treat that lasted for hours and ended when everyone dribbled out.  This exodus usually would last only last ten minutes or so before everyone cleared out.

One night at Scott and Tracy's, four of us remained as we hung out in the living room talking, laughing and getting drunk.  At one point (around two am) there was a lull in the conversation and we could hear the music coming from the stereo.  The song was Contact by Phish.  The relaxing lyrics of the first verse so clearly poured into our ears.

The tires are the things on your car
That make contact with the road
The car is the thing on the road
That takes you back to your abode

We looked at Scott and asked if he was trying to give us a hint.  He laughed and shrugged.  We all then laughed and decided it was time to walk home.  That song became a running joke that we would all play at parties as the exit tune.  It was a funny way to give the soft message, "Time to move along."

We moved to California in 1997 and have lived in Vallejo ever since.  That is only fourteen years, but that is four years longer  than I've lived in  any other place in my life.  Vallejo feels like home and I am comfortable here, but I am getting the subtle signs, internal and external, that it is time to move on.  For the past year or so I've felt both pushes and tugs to leave.  These forces are communicating to me that it is time to move along down the road.

Las Vegas Sign - 121411

The pushes are all around me.  They are subtle and I believe exist in both my subconscious and of those around me.  Many of the pushes are probably my sub-conscious creating negative narratives affirming a need of my own.  One example is the feeling at work that it is time to move one.  The job feels old and rusting.  My performance is getting worn out and I am running out of enthusiasm for it.  I wouldn't be shocked if my coworkers feel the same about me. 

While I may be manufacturing many of the pushes in my mind, I've noticed real ones too.  I've burned a few bridges over the years.  One really bad and recent one is indirectly sending me push messages.  Through very indirect communication (some subtle, some public), the sender is giving signals that my presence and welcome are worn out.  The sender is done with me and it is time for me to fade away.  I earned that push so I am trying to fade out as quietly as possible.

Helping the push are the tugs pulling me into new areas.  The tugs come from going to New York, Las Vegas, Rome, and my other wanderings and travels.  During those times away I felt tugs to move to the new area and a growing regret when I got back to the Bay Area.  These tugs made me realize that a new home awaits me elsewhere.  These tempting tugs beckon me with promises of a  home where I am welcomed, wanted, and where I can bring fresh blood, no burned bridges, new perspective, experience, passion art, humor, and energy.  These places are not tired of or annoyed with Karl yet nor feel the need to push me out.  I haven't disappointed, failed, hurt, or broken hearts in those places.  I am sure though one day I will.  It seems everyplace I go I overstay my welcome.

Phish - Contact

Empire State (Building) of Mind

ESB - 090211

I never got to see the twin towers before they came down.  I wonder if I would have been overwhelmed looking up at them.   They seemed so skinny and slight.  Since seeing the Empire State Building from a distance for the first time in 2009 and finally getting to touch it in 2010, I've grown attached to it.

It is a beautiful building.  It is tall, solid, and towers over that part of Manhattan.  It makes me feel small, inconsequential, and forgotten, but protected.  It stands guard over everyone, not recognizing the individual, but the looking over the mass of humanity that built it.

ESB - 090211

Last year a few of us on the group trip had dinner in it before taking the multiple elevators up to the observation deck on a warm summer night.  I was scared to death to be up there, but soon the companionship of my friends and all the other viewers calmed.

I've been through a lot of emotionally powerful moments since that June night in 2010.  They included my heart, my art, my life, my health, my path, and my future.  That building continues to stand and doesn't know I am connected to it, but I know I am connected to it.

ESB - 090211

I can't explain this connection to that building, it touches many areas, but I know when I see it I feel all the glory, goodness, pain, illness, love, creativity, angst, joy that I've swam through since then.   While I lived my life, that building stood silently watching over the city.

I had to touch the building when I visited New York last month.  I felt the buzzing energy in it and all of the year  since rushed through me and I jerked my hand away.  I looked up at it and knew I couldn't go to the top of it again that day.   I was afraid what would happen to me if I did.  Instead I looked at it from my hotel window that night, sighed, and closed my eyes.   I love that building.

ESB - 090211

NYC - You can go back, but don't expect to it to have waited for you.

View from my room - 081311

New York changes me every time I go there.  This time was no different.  During the days I had to do my daily job in a northern New Jersey town.  In the evenings I went into the city four times.  Most of the side trips to the city were influenced by my life-changing trip last summer in two ways.  First, I went to a few places I wanted to get to, but didn't get the chance.  Second, I went to see or revisit a few things that brought back happiness, mixed emotions, and taught me a few important life lessons.

Last summer there were three places I wanted to go to, but missed for a variety of reasons. The first was Times Square.  The second was to visit Strand Books in Manhattan.  The third was Brooklyn.

Strand Books - 081311

How can anyone who visits New York miss Times Square?  During my last visit some of my group went to it while I visited  30 Rockefeller Center while walking to the MoMA.  I went under Times Square at least three times on subway trains and transferred to other trains.  Many of my classmates got there and created amazing night images.  It felt like those tv shows where two people keep almost meeting and something interrupts or misguides them away.  I made it there my first night.  Three things about Times Square - lots and lots of giant screens and lights, tons of tourists, and now the great New Years Eve party makes sense to me.  I brought a great tiny point and shoot camera that I hadn't learned all the tricks with so my pictures of it are meh.  I want to go back to it because it has a the same simulacra feel of Las Vegas, which I also love.  I love seeing such effort put up to create a false facade.  Times Square is another great metaphor for life.

Strand Books is the largest physical bookstore I've been in.  I love books, but I am no bibliophile.  This place would be a sacred pilgrimage if I was one.  There is one large floor dedicated just to art books.  The photography section is overwhelming.  The erotic art section is larger than  the local Barnes and Nobles' complete art section.  In that section I bought the Taschen photo book La Petite Mort by Will Santillo.  I couldn't resist after I read the line, "If orgasm is the little death, is masturbation the little suicide?"

Valya - 081311

Brooklyn was a view across the river that I never visited last summer.  We went to Coney Island on the far side of it, but never explored the heart of the borough.  This time I spent part of an excellent and artistically enriching afternoon visiting with a friend.  (The visit with my friend will be covered in my next post.  Look at the photo on the right for a sneak peek.)  I walked around the Jamaican neighborhood for a while.  I couldn't help comparing it to Manhattan and thinking "minutes away, worlds apart".  This residential area doesn't have the glamorous charm of Manhattan.  It is a rougher area with a vibe and feel to it that make it tangible.  The music coming from the windows, the talks on the stoops, and the energy made me want to spend an evening there getting to know this rich neighborhood a little better.  Sadly though, I had to go and try to catch my plane out in Newark and had to leave all too soon.  I will be back.

Dinner Outside - 081311

As mentioned I also visited a few places I had been to before.  First up was B&H Photo on 9th Street.  It is my photography store Mecca.  I've bought four or five cameras there including my newest acquisition, an am/pro HD camcorder.  I want to experiment with moving images and need one before my big trips this fall.  I highly recommend B&H.  They are very helpful, friendly and non-pushy.  They know their stuff too.

After leaving B&H I had to go to the Empire State Building.  I plan a personal post about this icon of New York.  For now though I had to touch it.  I had to make sure that both it and I are still grounded. This beautiful building towers over all its neighbors.  It towers over me and is so significant compared to me.  I will always remember and revere it, but I am sure it is not aware of me or my connection to it.  More on this behemoth of a charged building later.

Times Square - 081311

How did New York change me?  I am still sorting that out.  One thing I learned though is that I've changed greatly since the last time I was there.  In so many areas I've flown high and I have also crashed and burned.  This has been a hell of a year.

In New York, everyone is a small individual in a great big whole.  Every person is their own story, but almost no one notices each other.  They just pass by and let the story move on.  There are an insanely overwhelming number of stories just on one block.  Sometimes they bump into each other for better and for worse, but sadly end up moving away, losing the connection that the city allowed them.  As melancholic as that sounds, I love New York City for its beauty and pain more each time.  Love is a complex beast.  It both builds you and tears you down.  Everyone has the choice to fall in love so I guess the beauty and beast of it all are self-induced pleasures and pains.