So I’m been at a loss as to what to put here lately. I’ve been taking it easy mostly, trying to find the next move.
I misjudged Spokane, and I kinda feel bad about it. The last time I wrote you was the same day that a panning of the entire city by some guy from the UK newspaper The Guardian made the front page of the Spokesman Review. So I feel kinda bad about not finding anything interesting to say about it.
That evening at a place called Boots Bakery and Cafe, I had a great conversation with a lady about fisheries and the state of salmon in the region. That conversation turned into one of those life, the universe, and everything conversations. It was a good evening.
I also returned to Boots the next day to watch a poetry reading event. It was kind of an open mic that had slam poetry and prose read out loud. I liked it a lot, but I was really struck by how negative it was. Maybe it’s just a sign of the Times that even poets can’t stick their head in warm sand these days. Poet communities always seem to be a strange mix of people that would rather be working by themselves and people who use it as another social community club. I do appreciate their openness though. The readers ranged from gender queer college students to old ladies to middle aged guys from off the street to guys who I theorize were local professionals. We all seek solace somewhere I suppose.
Question: Is it normal to fall a little in love with every barista with a great smile and a killer mocha?
Anyway, I’m learning that there is a reason that the Northwest is famed for its coffee. It’s much more a part of the culture here than the Southwest. Suits me fine, and after the perpetual excellence of Vietnamese coffee it’s welcome.
I already feel the suction of home calling me. I may have to make one last trip South to resolve my situation there. I also would like to see friends and family before I find someplace more permanent.
I have two pressures, the call of the road and the call of responsibility. I want to continue this traveling, but my lack of a clear direction will probably kill that dead. The other option is to pick a city and make a life there. The prime suspects are scattered across the country so maybe I should make shopping the trip.
Ah me, ah life
Been picking up my art again
My hope is that my continual practice will eventually get me to a point where I’ll be comfortable doing a full blown comic. My inner six year old has been kicking me for not fulfilling my promise to him to make a comic book.
I’d give you some music to listen to but honestly I don’t feel like it right now. Just assume there is something bluesy, slow, and fuzzy here.
Just remember, you’ve got faults, but I love you anyway. We’re all rough drafts of the people we’ll be tomorrow.
God speed your way.