From the Earth We Are Born

At the start of my spirit journey, I walked away from my former life of family, property, belongings, and “stuff” to be on the road; living in the moment and experiencing life as it came at me.  It was a conscious choice.  It is a very stripped down, decluttered life when everything you have will fit in one saddlebag and a sissy bar bag (or in the case of the new Road Glide, the TourPak.  One saddlebag is filled with tools, first aid kit, and cold weather gear including chaps.

I made one trip by air back to the family home to pick up two suit cases of belongings and most of these belongings are still in the suitcases and don’t fit in with the essentials that are required for my daily life on the road.  They will soon go into storage here or a local Goodwill box.

I do miss my books including poetry, motorcycling stories, and sometimes my big studio MAC for editing photos and recording music. What I do really miss is my artwork.  I drew great pleasure and comfort having my art on the walls in my living space.

When my brother and his wife contacted me here at the “Hotel California” to tell me they were coming down to visit and they asked what they could bring the list was fairly short.  I asked them to bring my small tent I bought for riding trips, a cover for one of the motorcycles and one of my other helmets.  I also asked them to bring one of my favorite paintings that I painted in 2000.  I was seeing a friend in California and, as always, I had my 35mm Canon with me.  I referred to it as my sketchpad. 

On one of my many trips to California, my friend and I visited some beautiful places on the coast south of San Francisco including Rockaway Beach, haunt of my many Beat period poet heroes, Half Moon Bay, Ano Nuevo Beach, Monterrey, and Carmel.  We also visited a tiny secluded beach at Montara.

As my friend sat up on the bluff overlooking the beach, I made my way down the ocean edge, and took a photo looking inland to capture this magnificent cypress sitting on the very brink of the bluff.  I could see the possibilities for a painting and when I got the photo back from the lab, I had them make a 24 x 36 inch plaqued copy of the print.

Back in my studio, I lofted out the lines on a 24 x 36 inch gallery canvas interpreting the photo into an allegory about the spiritual connection between Mother Earth and the sky with the cypress featured as the channel connecting the two and the roots of the cypress binding the earth together and providing the nutrients and cohesiveness to provide for the birth of life.  The words of the prayers for burial (and rebirth) were in my mind as I shaped the figured of clay emerging from the bank of the bluff joined as couples coming into the light of day beneath the spiritual sky.

I used an impasto technique I have used for 10 years now that is referred to as encaustic.  Using a palette knife I blended soft wax with the foundation colours of the painting into a thick paste softened with Stand Oil that I applied and sculpted to give enormous buildup and dimension to the painting.  Next, I used another favorite technique to create the spiritual sky, blending the paints directly on the canvas using 4 inch paint roller dipped in a cobalt and Venetian turps, glazing medium.   The next step in two months of work was to texture the encaustic buildup with a slow drying glazing medium with 6 and in some places 8 layers of transparent colored paint glazes. 

The final work on the cypress tree and the surrounding bushes used a thinned out encaustic with a high percentage of Stand Oil to create dimension and depth to the foliage and the tree trunk.  Again a slow drying glazing medium allowed me to create minute variations in the hue and saturation of the colours.

The finished work has a vibrancy and inner light that still resonates with me.  Tonight, the painting sits in front of me at the foot of my bed where the morning light brings it alive and it is the first sight I see on waking every day.

I am so happy my brother and his wife took the time, effort, and risk to transport it here so I could have a important and valued piece of my previous life with me.

When I hit the road again soon, I will leave it with a friend here who will have it to place on their wall until I return to spend next winter here.  My other work will have to go into storage up in Canada.

Even in this nomadic life I have chosen, it is important to have some ties to things we love and cherish.  Cypress - Montara Beach is just that.

More of my art is accessible through my FaceBook page and I may blog about some of the other works.  Art, poetry, photography and music feed my soul and express my spirituality.  Perhaps this work will provide you with insight, inspiration, and perhaps a little pleasure.

 

From the new book or poetry

As I work I found myself wondering

Of these chance meetings

Along this magical road

The touching of kindred souls

Perhaps only for a brief respite

Or a friendly conversation

Perhaps to join together

For part of the journey

Perhaps for the teaching

But in my wondering

I see only good 

Harmony 

Feed The Fire

A friend on BON made some kind remarks about this morning’s blog and I replied that her encouragement “feeds the fire”.  I recently found out that one of the dark secrets in my family was our native heritage.  We were always told one side of my mother’s family was Irish.  The last name Bernhardt sure sounded Irish but my bro’ through his plotting of our genealogy found we in fact are descended from a family of that name and the family Maracle from the Mohawk nation.

Feeding the fire is an important art of life in the native North American traditions.  As an artist, writer, or as a guy on the assembly line at Generous Motors, the passions in our life feed our inner spirit; our inner fire.  When someone witnesses what we do with our passion and make positive and favorable remarks, it feeds our inner fire.  Passion for life, passion for our hobbies, passion for our craft keeps us young, vital and engaged with our inner spirit and with our outer lives.  It is also the way of The People to feed the fire so it is there always for warmth, cooking, heating the stones for the sweat lodge, and a place to come together and share their life stories.

Several years ago now, I was with a friend in the historic Folsom, California.  We wandered into Betty’s Turquoise Shop and while in that store, I heard this wonderful, haunting music that touched me to the core, piping through the sound system. I asked the man behind the counter what it was and who was performing.  He told me it was the Native North American flute played by a local Grammy winning artist named Mary Youngblood.  Thus was born a new passion in my life.  I guess now I know it was probably somewhere hidden in my gene pool.

Before I left Betty’s, I had purchased an A minor red cedar river flute made by the master Stephan DeRuby and the CD I had heard by Mary Youngblood.  I was hooked. Now I have travelled with my flutes to many places including the gorge of the Niagara River where I played in the woods above the great rapids. I also played my river flute in the sacred Ojibwa Petroglyph Park in Ontario, on the shores of McInnes Lake and that is where I want my ashes scattered when I pass.

Today I have a collection of flutes that may number 14 in total.  Recently I was at a Powwow in Sebastian and there was a remarkable fellow who knows all the makers of my collection and he had several dozen flutes on display.  I ended up buying a flute that had started life as first growth Sequoia then had been part of a barn for a very long time and finally had ended up as an end post in a Napa Valley winery.   The flute maker had been given the post to use to make a flute for the donor and had ended up making several out of the post.  I have the last one.  It is a beautiful airy sounding F# minor flute with a beautiful carved cedar bear for the “bird” over the sound holes.

Our passions are there, buried inside of each of us waiting for the trigger that will release them to be experienced and embraced and integrated into our lives.  Our passions feed our inner fire and keep us young and vital.

This evening while I waited for the last load of laundry I listed to Mary Youngblood’s Feed the Fire.  A lovely tune but I could not find it on you tube or anywhere.  The lyrics, which I will try to capture off my iTunes copy, start like this:

He wandered, he wandered far from home

Out to get, out to be alone

Adventure waited and dreams to find

Left the Rez, left it behind

On his way to follow his heart’s desire

To find that scared place

And to Feed the Fire

It sounds a little like my own spirit journey.  The tune is available on iTunes. 

So as I sit here tonight outside the cabin at the “Hotel California” my head and heart are full of the music of the flute as I look forward to where my journey will take me.  And, I look forward to riding this rode with passion, integrity, and an open heart.  The fog of the late afternoon has lifted and the air is warm again. Warm as the sound of Mary’s flute.

Here is the tune I first heard in Betty’s Turquoise Shop.

Unrequited - Mary Youngblood

Other Native American music

Prophesy Song - Joanne Shenandoah

You Can Hear Them Dancing - Joanne Shenandoah

Ghost Dance - Robbie Robertson (Mohawk)

Reach For The Sky - Mary Youngblood

The first DeRuby River Flutre

View from the Deck at My Home near the Petroglyphs Park

Finding the Fountain of Youth

A comment a friend made to me in a phone call last night triggered my “Here’s a blog coming” response.  When I got up this morning, my BON friend “little wing” had left me a note on yesterday’s blog that got me thinking about the chaos within and the chaos without that is a normal part of my spirit journey and, I guess, everyone else’s.  My friend last night commented on the fact that I think and act young; that I don’t talk old.  I am young as a consequence though the calendar as well as my Facebook and BON page says I am 63 years old.

I am sitting in the shade outside the cabin at the “Hotel California” in Sebastian, enjoying a coffee and the soft breeze off the Indian River.  My thoughts are running over the comments on my blog, my spirit journey, aging, and the riding season ahead of me.  My ride to date and looking forward will be to shed chaos.  I move away from chaos whenever it touches me like the smoke from a brush fire.  Just like I avoid the smoke of the brush fire that burns my lungs, chaos sears my soul.  Whether it is external chaos of partners fighting as I observed last night, or the internal chaos caused by negative self-talk and doubt, I choose to reject and move away from it.

I think part of finding the fountain of youth is to know it is within.  The saying “You are only as old as you act” holds true.  Rejecting chaos clears my vision.  I “see” the clearly who I want to be and I can align it with who I am undistorted by the haze of internal and external chaos.  Tapping into my internal fountain of youth, I keep thinking of the lines of the classic hit co-written by Jackson Browne and Glenn Frey “Take It Easy”.

Well, I'm a standing on a corner

in Winslow Arizona

It's such a fine sight to see

It's a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed

Ford slowin' down to take a look at me

I know I will make the ride to Winslow, Arizona in October and I will stand on a corner there watching for that girl in the flatbed floor slowin’ down to take a look at me because I feel as young as Glenn Frey was when he wrote that verse!  I feel good about myself and who I am; comfortable in my own skin and in my mind and spirit.  As long as I remain true to myself, I will remain young.  The muse that encourages me to create will live on and my joy with writing, making music, creating new art will stay vibrantly alive.

Tale It Easy -Jackson Browne and Glen Frey performed by JB and David Lindley

From the still untitled new book

How I wondered at the silence

Snow laden forest trail

Pine bough naves reaching skyward

Cedar bark smell and pine needle

Fresh as the crisp air freezing

My nostrils

No breezes rustling bare branches

And in the still shadows

Just presence

Communion

Silence

Joy

Lyrics Take It Easy – Jackson Browne and Glenn Frey

Well, I'm running down the road

tryin' to loosen my load

I've got seven women on my mind,

Four that wanna own me,

Two that wanna stone me,

One says she's a friend of mine,

Take it easy, take it easy

Don't let the sound of your own wheels

Drive you crazy

Lighten up while you still can

Don't even try to understand

Just find a place to make your stand

and take it easy

Well, I'm a standing on a corner

in Winslow Arizona

It's such a fine sight to see

It's a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed

Ford slowin' down to take a look at me

Come on, baby, don't say maybe

I gotta know if your sweet love is

gonna save me

We may lose and we may win though

we will never be here again

so open up, I'm climbin' in,

so take it easy..."Alright"

Well I'm running down the road trying to loosen

my load, got a world of trouble on my mind

lookin' for a lover who won't blow my

cover, she's so hard to find

Take it easy, take it easy

don't let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy,

come on baby, don't say maybe

I gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me, ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh

Oh we got it easy

We oughta take it easy, yeah

Alive In This World

Yesterday was one of those banner days for motorcycle riding.  I had planned a ride back to the central interior of Florida to see some of the areas I had missed on my ride to Sebastian last November.  The loose plan was to meet one of my friends I had made online at the Daytona Harley dealers then to head inland.  I had a vague notion of checking out the St. John’s River area and the lakes over to Ocala.  Beyond that, I would work out the details off the map when I met my friend.

The weather was already warm as I had a coffee on the stoop while I checked over the Road Glide.  The sky was bright blue with some puffy fair weather cumulus clouds.  I packed some extra water and a long sleeve shirt in the TourPak.  As I worked on getting myself ready, my friend Bud arrived in the family van to borrow my suspension pump to figure out a problem with his Street Glide suspension.  We quickly discussed some approached to troubleshooting the problem then, Bud went his way to finish packing for his Everglades boat camping trip and the repairs to his ride.

By 9:15 I was KSU and on my way to the rendezvous stopping just down the road to top up the tank.  The ride up US #1 to Malabar Road was a treat as the dozen nesting Osprey were already with the task of feeding their young.  The Indian River was alive with the morning sun on the water.

At Malabar, I cut over to the I95 to blast north to make the appointed time to meet my backseat passenger for the day.  The dealership is at I95 and US#1.  I arrived about 10 minutes late but soon found my friend by cell phone navigation in the crowded parking lot.  We quickly consulted the map and were on our way.

We headed west out US#1 to pick up CR304 heading south to Cody’s Corner before turning right onto SR 11 heading south through the Heart Island Conservation area, to pick up SR40 West.  The day was getting progressively warmer and at our pit stop, I stripped the removable leather skin off my leather jacket to get some ventilation.  Heading west through the rolling hills, the forest was lined the roadway and we saw our first bear crossing warning signs.  I didn’t know bears were plentiful enough to be a road hazard but it made for great fun looking to see if one was lurking in the roadside cover.  The bikers were out in full force taking in the perfect day.

By Barberville, we were both hungry and ready for a break.  I saw a sign advertising a lakeside eatery up SR15 so we headed north up that road watching for more signs.  By the time we hit Bakersburg there was no sign of the restaurant.  We stopped to fuel up and shed the morning coffee.  I engaged an older fellow sitting outside the gas station about local places to eat.  He gave glowing reviews for a riverside inn at Astor so we turned around and headed s0uth.  Motorcycling is about the U Turns made on a ride.  The view as we crossed the St. Johns River was breathtaking.

The Black Water Inn looked to be a delightful place but it was closed Mondays.  We had passed a sign advertising a biker friendly waterside restaurant before we crossed the bridge so another U Turn took us back there after a few minutes spent admiring the view and taking a photo op. 

Castaways grill was just perfect.  We enjoyed a cold beer and sandwich lunch and spent time on the deck watching the fishermen and birds working the river.  My prime rib sandwich disappeared in record time probably because I missed breakfast in the midst of my morning busy work.  It was delicious!

After a good break for lunch we headed west again on SR 40.  The GPS was off and in the TourPak.  Now it was follow the most interesting road!  I had mental map in my head but sometimes the turning points disappear to same place where names go when I really need to remember them.  I call this malady CRAFT disease.

My friend was the perfect riding companion.  She sat quietly in the comfort of the luxurious passenger accommodations except to sing along with the tunes on the iPod playlist and occasionally point out something I might miss while focused on the road.  The day was really hot by now.

The lakes amid the trees of the Ocala State Forest were jewels.  We headed north up SR19 in the middle of the forest cutting along the edge of Lake George.  I made a couple of command to explore interesting side roads that turned into sand and gravel fire access roads.  No place to take a low clearance Harley!  My old Kawasaki 350 Greenhorn would have been perfect.

We arrived in Salt Spring by 3 PM and continued north on SR19 until we picked up SR20 on the outskirts of Palatka.  This is a beautiful town in the north end of Lake George where it narrows into the St. John’s River again.  There is a submarine there converted into a museum that I would like to see but by now the sun was on its way down so it will wait until next winter for a visit.  We stopped in the Millennium Park to look for manatee and to watch the birds and the fishermen at work and for another great photo op.

Mounting up, we follow SR 20 out of town with a couple of wrong turns included then picked up SR17 South moving along now as the sun was really on its way down.  Soon SR 40 called for a left turn to head east until we picked up SR 11 again and rode into Brunnell for a bio break.  A right on US#1 took us past the White Eagle saloon, a popular biker bar near Daytona and our dinner destination.  By now the sun was gone and we were hot and hungry after a long ride and lots of baking in the sun.

 We enjoyed lots of getting acquainted conversation along with a feast of the Canadian dinner staple of chicken wings, onion rings, and beer.  Take that, South Beach diet!  The karaoke night was not so good as the wings.

It was getting on when we left the White Eagle and I headed down US#1 to drop my friend at her truck.  By then it was past 9:30 PM.  I don’t like to ride at night and 100 miles on I95 was not my idea of the perfect ending to a perfect day.  At that point II decided the Super 8 across from the dealers was a better bet.  I booked in and we dropped off the Harley there and headed down to A1A by truck to se the sights and to drive the coast up to Flagler Beach.  We made a stop at Finn’s for a libation and to watch the waning moon, just past full rise over the black Atlantic perfectly silhouetting the Flagler pier against the moon reflection on the dark waters.  It was a beautiful sight but the photographer left the Nikon on board the Road Glide.

We headed back to the dealers and the day was done as we went our ways after agreeing that another ride would be fun and that it should happen soon.

In the morning I had to chastise myself to get in better shape before riding season.   I was a little stiff and sore but wasn’t going to make concessions to age.  After wiping the morning dew off the Harley, I mounted up and picked up I 95 to head south.  As I continued to work through the iPod playlist a Jackson Browne (who else) song came up that really resonated for me in that moment and as I reflected on my good fortune and a wonderful day of good weather, great riding, wonderful companionship, and another developing friendship. 

I know this was the thought in my mind as I awake in the Super 8 motel this morning.   I am Alive In The World

I want to live in the world, not inside my head

I want to live in the world, I want to stand and be counted

With the hopeful and the willing

With the open and the strong

With the voices in the darkness

Fashioning daylight out of song

And the millions of lovers

Alive in the world

I want to live in the world, not behind some wall

I want to live in the world, where I will hear if another voice should call

To the prisoner inside me

To the captive of my doubt

Who among his fantasies harbors the dream of breaking out

And taking his chances

Alive in the world

To open my eyes and wake up alive in the world

To open my eyes and fully arrive in the world

With its beauty and its cruelty

With its heartbreak and its joy

With it constantly giving birth to life and to forces that destroy

And the infinite power of change

Alive in the world

To open my eyes and wake up alive in the world

To open my eyes and fully arrive in the world

To open my eyes and wake up alive in the world

To open my eyes and fully arrive in the world

Alive In The World - Jackson Browne

As The Distance Stands Between Us

I am sitting in my favorite spot in my chair by the stoop of the cabin at the “Hotel California” in Sebastian.  It’s a beautiful day!  Sunny with some distance clouds teasing me with hints of rain but it is just not in the cards today.  For me, it is a day of rest.  I had planned a ride over to the Gulf Coast but it just became onerous doing the planning and my heart wasn’t in it.  It soon became a “gotta” instead of an “I wanna”.  So, here I sit enjoying a beautiful Florida February day. 

I have to resist this Pavlovian response to the good weather to get on the Harley and ride.  I need a rest day to recharge and figure out what I really want to do over the next few days.  My friend Bud dropped in this morning to try out my sissy bar bag from my ’06 Road Glide to see if it would work okay on his ’07 Street Glide for some trips he has planned to Daytona Bike Week and the Leesburg rally in April.  I am not using the bag now since my 2011 Road Glide Ultra has the TourPak and a bag for the top of the TourPak to carry my belongings when I hit the road again this spring.

The bag worked out just fine so I have let him have it on indefinite loan. Bud and I made plans to take a run down to the Fort Pierce Thursday night Bike Nite which, we have heard, is a must attend event.  It will be a leisurely 30 mile ride there then some meet and greet with other bikers in the area. Then, it was off to the grocery store to fill the fridge and wine locker for the weekend.

The restlessness I feel is coming from the hard calls of reality to get the year end closed on my 2 small businesses and get my personal taxes filed.  I also have to figure out the bureaucracy of Canada Customs so I can cross the border with my Florida registered Harley.  I also need to figure out where I will stay for a while once I hit Canada to take care of other personal business and to have an address to receive my bills and maybe a big fat ole tax refund.

There is also a bit of a cloud in my psyche about relationships and the distances that fall between us whether we are friends or in a relationship.  I penned this a while ago.

Soft touches of your words

Applied to the canvas of my soul

Light touches and bold sweeps

Soft yellows and vivid magenta

And in the background a soft blue shading

As the distance stands between us

I find the irony in how we are like the pair of woodpeckers in the live oak above me who are busy working on separate limbs together but not together.  When one moves to share the branch, the other moves over a branch.  It seems like a mannered type of dance that is all about keeping a distance but appearing to be together.  In our lives, how often do we let the task at hand or the interest of the moment become the space between two branches.

On my ride down to Jensen Beach I  had Paula Cole’s This Fire record on the trusty iPod.  Her song where Have All The Cowboys gone captures the sense of how we create distances with our pre-occupations and sometimes, the indifference bred of the familiarity of a relationship that is stable and routine.  It is something I will keep in mind as a “want” is to keep freshness in a relationship by tending to it in a mindful way so it does not stagnate and become full of spaces where the distance stands between.

Oh you get me ready in your 56 Chevy

Why don't we go sit down in the shade

Take shelter on my front porch

The dandy lion sun scorching,

Like a glass of cold lemonade

I will do the laundry if you pay all the bills

CHORUS:

Where is my John Wayne

Where is my prairie son

Where is my happy ending

Where have all the cowboys gone

Why don't you stay the evening

Kick back and watch the TV

And I'll fix a little something to eat

Oh I know your back hurts from working on the tractor

How do you take your coffee my sweet

I will raise the children if you pay all the bills

Chorus

I am wearing my new dress tonight

But you don't, but you don't even notice me

Say our goodbyes

Say our goodbyes

Say our goodbyes

We finally sold the Chevy

When we had another baby

And you took the job in Tennessee

You made friends at the farm

And you joined them at the bar

Almost every single day of the week

I will wash the dishes while you go have a beer

Chorus

Where is my Marlboro man

Where is his shiny gun

Where is my lonely ranger

Where have all the cowboys gone

Where have all the cowboys gone

Where have all the cowboys gone

But, enough heavy thought on this very pleasant day.  It is time to make a late lunch and get organized for the ride down to Bike Nite.   Yesterday’s ride to Jensen Beach was a beauty.  This will be a good ride too in the company of friends and there will be the chance to make new friends while we are there.  Life remains good.

Paula Cole - Where Have All The Cowboys Gone

From the still untitled book

And in the whispering silence of the rain

I heard soft chords and scattered notes

Diana Krall passages

Written in soft fonts

Into the fabric of my day

A feeling of red velvet

Softly

Touching

And a final chord echoes against wet glass

A Simple Jewel of a Day

It’s a beautiful evening here in Sebastian Florida tonight.  I’m sitting outside listening to the traffic on US #1 and the acorns dropping from the live oak tree onto the metal roof of the rec center (or wrecked center as I call it).  Today was a wonderful day and it reminded me of the reasons I came on this ride.  My brother and sister-in-law stayed here overnight for a visit on their way back to Canada.  We stayed up later than my usual bedtime hour and talked about family and all the drama that takes place. 

This morning we said our farewells and I started getting my gear together for a ride.  My friend Bud arrived riding his ’07 black Street Glide and we agreed it was noon somewhere so we popped a beer and talked motorcycles and Harleys in particular.  Bud is gearing up for the Leesburg rally in April as well as a trip down the Everglades by boat.  He is a real outdoorsman and knows his fishing. Bud left to get his boat ready for the season and to do some chores at home so I got myself ready to ride.

A huge brush fire filled the sky with great billows of smoke over to the west.  I hit the pumps down the road to gas up and headed out the 512 to see if there were some good photos I could get of the fire and the activity around it.  As I rode west on the 512, I saw a familiar figure on a 1200 Sportster.  My friend Kim was riding east.  We saw each other at the same time and he pointed to the parking lot he was passing.  A quick U Turn later and I pulled up beside him.  He was on his way to see me so we rode back to the cabin and another chat about motorcycles ensued.  

Brush Fire Plume

It was just a gorgeous day; sunny, bright, but with a touch of chill left in the air.  We decided a ride was in order so mounting up we headed up US #1 towards Palm Bay.  It was our first ride together and we did the usual observing and jockeying to get used to each others riding style.  It was just glorious.  The ospreys were busy fishing the Indian River.  The sun gleamed off waves looking like burnished metal.

Great Egret

We headed west to a conservation area that is very active right now with nesting birds, manatee, dolphins and other wildlife.  When we arrived, I dug the Nikon out of the TourPak and headed down to the docks to see who was around providing entertainment.  By now it was hot and I sure was warm wearing my chaps and leather jacket.  Off came the jacket and the sun felt like warm butter on my arms.  In Canada I would be up to my knees in snow and wondering if I would ever warm up!

The manatees were not around because the tide was out and the water too low where we were for them.  The birds though put on a great show.  I started to work with the camera shooting shot after shot and working to find the special shot for the day.  Kim, who studied photography in university, encouraged me and pointed out different shots for me to take.  He soon pointed into the high swamp grass along the bank behind us and said “Did you see that bird that just landed in the grass?”  I hadn’t but when I isolated the movement on the bank I saw it was an elusive Green Heron.  We worked around to a point above it where I could get a relatively unrestricted shot and I took plenty trying to isolate it in profile.

Common Tern

I got the special shot of the day I hoped to get at this favorite haunt of mine.  We soon got antsy to get riding again and to put it in the wind.  Off we went heading back to pick up US #1 and heading south this time towards home.  We swung down Indian River Rd. and gave a nod in homage to Arlo Guthrie’s house then pulled into the lot at Earl’s Hideaway, our local pub, where a number of bikes were pulled up.  There was a stripped down 1958 Pan Head and a number of other sweet rides.  As we walked in, I saw Bud having a cold one at the end of the bar.  We pulled up our stools by him and soon the talk was back to motorcycles, fishing, and life in Florida.  Kim has taken up surf fishing and invited me along with the offer of a spare pole.  It sounds like I will get an introduction to this popular Florida pastime. 

Cormorant

After a beer we all headed out and rode off in our own directions to bring to an end what I consider a perfect day.  Good riding, good friends, great wildlife to photograph, and fabulous weather.  Yes!  This is why I am on this journey; to experience days like this and the feel that sense of inner joy.  Life is good!

Green Heron

I Shall Be Released

It’s a cool, damp day here in Florida.  I’m perched on a chair outside the cabin at the “Hotel California” and keeping warm with my second pot of hot coffee this morning.

Browsing through YouTube for some of my favorite songs and reflecting on where I am in my journey, I came across a video of Coheed and Cambria performing the classic “I Shall Be Released”.  I found the performance uninspired and lack luster but the slide work by Warren Hayes was really enjoyable.  I appreciate the work of any master at their instrument.

Reading through the lyrics, I can see the obvious story of a man in prison reflecting on his fate or a Christian interpretation of release and deliverance.  I can also see an easy metaphorical interpretation that could apply to me or to anyone who is reflective about their life and their journey.  We all get caught up in issues and circumstances that become traps we place ourselves in or allow to stand between our life goals and us.  To quote the lines from the song

“They say ev’rything can be replaced

Yet ev’ry distance is not near

So I remember ev’ry face

Of ev’ry man who put me here”

We can get distracted.  I do so often, it’s like I have ADD.  And, in the moment, we head off in a new direction that we think leads to “the sweet tasting good times” to quote Carole King from an earlier blog I wrote.  Instead of finding a shortcut, the journey to is the same and sometimes even longer because, we get totally lost keeping track of the purpose and reason for the journey in the first place.  The only face we need to look to in order to find who put us here is the one in the mirror!

Today I got up fretting about my own journey and how I seem bogged down and spinning my wheels.  Travel anywhere north of Florida seems a dodgy proposition due to the cold and unpredictable weather.  I am riding almost every day and I am meeting new people almost every day and deepening my friendships with those who I already now. 

There has been heartache and great joy for me.  Sometimes, as the lyrics flow, I might want protection for the bad parts but it is all part of the higher purpose I had in mind when I started out.   Sure I have fallen down and not lived up to my personal expectations of who I am and who I want to be but when I look up I see I am headed in the right direction and the goal of a life filled with love, happiness, and purpose is there in front of me.

“They say ev’ry man needs protection

They say ev’ry man must fall

Yet I swear I see my reflection

Some place so high above this wall”

“Way Over Yonder” is still ahead of me but it is within sight and grasp.

My impatience with the weather and my desire to get going again on my travels is just binding me up with frustration. I am letting it go.  I can travel here and there is a lot I have yet to see and experience.  There are lots of people I have talked to online that I would like to meet and get to know.  There are friendships started that I need to relax around and let them evolve naturally. 

The memo to me for the day is “Renew my rent on the cabin for another month and enjoy your time here”.  If I do this as a conscious decision on the journey, it all makes sense and the walls of the prison of my own discontent disappear!

I remember a quote from that earlier blog in the form of a quote a friend sent to me; a line from Dr. Wayne Dyer " Have a Mind That is Open to Everything and Attached to nothing."  Those darn attachment!  So much of my energy has gone into finding the love part of my goal that everything else has suffered. 

There is no need to look.  Looking attaches me to a “lack of love” instead of what I really want which is, “to have love”.  This pursuit has overwhelmed almost everything to the point my writing output has fallen off and I am not getting out there breaking new ground.  Well, today is as good as any day to form the intention to get on with living my journey with balance and letting go of the attachment to a lack of something in my life.

There!  That was easy!

“I see my light come shining

From the west unto the east

Any day now, any day now

I shall be released”

Here is an interesting side note.  I don’t have my tarot cards with me but the Facebook version is fun to look at.  Today what I drew as the card for my day is:

My Daily Tarot Card

Temperance

Calm and balance. Need to have patience for events surrounding you as they play out. Moderation. Accommodation. Reflection on your life. Maturity. Draw emotions in and stop overreacting to outside forces. Contemplation and reflection on events, relationships and work. Be the calming force in chaos. Possible to overcome addiction to substance, people or relationships. Obsession passing. Order being restored. Bring calm to mind and behavior patterns. A time of peace is beginning. Let it wash over you.

The journey continues and so will my blogs, the book of poetry project, riding here in Florida, deepening my relationships, and my personal growth.

From the untitled new book

Boot tracks across the sand

Follow me into the dunes

Ahead of me there are no marks

No paths to follow

But the sunlight

Filtered through the haze

Of some distant place to the west

In the distance an eagle soars

Winds outstretched against the sun

Seeing and hearing all

Wisdom in the grip of its talons

My steps continue westward

In answer to its call

***********

Sky

Of gray somber washes

Clouds

Hints of dark on white

Lake

Still water like slate

Trees

Silvered branches frosted

Lawns

Brown forlorn waiting

Streets

Empty anticipating

Storm

Ominous pending

I Shall Be Released - Coheed and Cambria

My personal favorite versions

I Shall Be Released - The Band

I Shall Be Released - Chrissie Hynde

Followed Your Road Till The Sky Ran Out

Last night I was out with a friend for a couple of pops at the local bar to talk motorcycles, traveling, fishing, music, relationships, and life; the stuff guys who are friends will talk about over an ale on a quiet summer evening.  Bud rides a grey Street Glide.  He is one of the good friends I have made on this journey.

After we headed off in our separate directions, I came back to the “Hotel California” for a real beer and some time in the balmy evening air on my stoop.  The just-past quarter moon was setting, moving in and out of thin veils of clouds and filtered through the branches of the live oaks in the yard.

Our conversation got me thinking about my journey currently paused in Florida and my own situation of traveling alone.  I started out traveling alone because it was right for the moment and, as usual, not many people have the freedom to hit the road for an indefinable period of time and without set waypoints.  So, that ruled out a regular backseat to join in the adventure.

In recent weeks, I have started to want company on my rides.  This is a good thing.  I genuinely like people and enjoy time with folks who are generally drama-free and who have life experiences to share in a way that gets below the surface of the pleasantries and into “the heart of the matter” to quote from a recent blog post.  I have met quite a few people on the road now and I love the variety and uniqueness of each of their stories and journeys.

As I approach a new riding season when I will leave this bubble of good living and pleasant weather called Florida, I wonder what the future will hold.  I can see the train wrecks and joys of the past in my mental rear view mirrors.  I have extracted the learning from these experiences and have determinedly kept my eyes forward to the future while living in the moment.  It brings to mind something I wrote during a similar period in 1999.

There can be no talk of yesterday

When our future is spread before us

No looking backward

No questioning of what might have been

No autopsies of the spirit

Through social networking on Facebook, BON, and other sites, I am getting to know people all over North America and the world for that matter.  Most are part of the biker community and like me, share a passion for “being in the wind”.  Many have invited me to stay with them as I pass through their areas and some have expressed an interest to ride with me and show me their part of the country.  When I came to Florida, my friend Chris took me all over this area showing me the roads and the sights.  It made my introduction to Florida a happy and stress-free adventure. 

I am looking forward to seeing other areas of the country in the company of friends I have made and to get below the surface of the street names and maps to the heart of the matter in each place I visit.  Part of that adventure will be putting faces and places to names and pictures that come to me via the Great Ether (my pet name for the Internet). 

My conversation with Bud also reminded me of my current situation of not having a partner in the romantic or domestic sense.  My heart is open to meeting someone if the circumstances and connection is there.  I am on a journey spiritually and physically that has many miles yet to go.  That is not a simple environment for a relationship of the heart to unfold.  However, the journey  and the meetings alone the way are something to look forward to and that fills me with anticipation for the season ahead and all that it may hold for me.  The dream continues,,,,

On that moon theme from the start of this post I was listening to Emmylou Harris’ recording of Moon written by Patti Griffith:

“Followed your road till the sky ran out

Followed your love till love was in doubt

Followed your love till it never really was at all

Feeling stupid and hollow

Now the moon's gonna' follow me home

Waited for you till the snow fell down

Over my skin like a thin nightgown

Waited for you but you never came around at all

Waited for you till they pulled the plug

Bartender emptied out his big tip jug

They swept all the floors

Vacuumed the rugs and went home

Drank all I could swallow

Now the moon's gonna' follow me home

Time go easy on me tonight

I'm one of the lost sheep alright

Take what you must, take what you must

Of what I've lost as I have roamed

Let the moon follow me home

Followed your tears with a washing pail

I followed your story I followed your tail

Followed you straight through the

Doors of your jail cell too

Followed your voice in the darkness soft

A wind came through and carried it off

I followed your love till it never really was at all

Drank all I could swallow

Now the moon's gonna' follow me home

Drank all I could swallow

Now the moon's gonna' follow me home”

Emmylou Harris - The Moon (by Patti Griffith)

From my own pen last night

The quarter moon

Is a Cheshire cat smile

Settled into the boughs

Of a dark oak tree

Is that enigmatic smile

Aimed at me

Or is she bemused by life

 

Other moon and night theme favorites from last night’s play list

Night Parade - Robbie Robertson

Angel - Sarah McLaughlin and Emmylou Harris

Moondance - Van Morrison

Sister Moon - Sting

A Short Ride to Nowhere Special

This morning was in the cabin busy work for me.  I have a new Corbin saddle coming for the Road Glide Ultra, new oversized grips to keep my big hands from cramping like they do on the teeny stock grips, and Harley is providing a new fairing because the one on the bike has a flaw on one of the screw holes.  No shipments had arrived and I wanted to get the timing sorted out so time for riding was not wasted waiting for stuff and sitting in the dealer’s showroom.

I also had a bunch financial stuff that arrived by email from my bookkeeper to sort through and issue instruction for her to handle things in my absence.  All of this ran into late morning as I also had many messages to look through and reply too from yesterday’s blog.  It felt good to focus on “getting things done”.

After pizza leftovers for lunch with a Beck’s NA, I got the cover off the Harley FLTRU and checked over the bike.  It was hot.  It was about 80 degrees and the southwest wind was blowing strongly with even stronger gusts.  I had no destination in mind except to be by the water.  I knew my regular backseat companions where busy so, it would be another solo ride.  I don’t mind time alone in the saddle.  Just being in the wind and astride the FLTRU is enough to make the day glow with pleasure and put me in the headspace to write.

I pulled out onto US Highway #1 and headed south from Sebastian and hung a left to cross the Wabasso Bridge to Orchid Island where O could pick up the A1A north.  I had a vague idea that today might be a great day to visit the beaches and see what birds were hanging about.  The wind was really a handful on the bridges but I love how the Road Glides mounted chassis-mounted fairing transferred most of the buffeting to the frame and not to my arms.  There was lots of wind driven debris on the road so I have to watch for it on top of the myopic car drivers.

The beaches were full of people and no interesting birds presented themselves but I did get some shots of the sea and beaches.  It was hot and my face was getting another searing from the sun.  I pulled into the parking at Indioatlantic Beach in Melbourne to get a Java Bean Frappuccino (grande no less)  to refresh myself before heading inland.

The 520 bridge took me into downtown Melbourne where I picked up US Highway #1 and turned south towards Palm Bay.  The roads were not too busy.  It is one of the things I like about this part of the east coast.  Not too many people and the traffic is not too crazy except for the almost complete disregard for signaling turns or lane changes.

I coasted along on my scooter doing the speed limit with lots of time to take in the scenery and to watch the acrobatics of the Osprey and the vultures having fun in the high winds.  I pulled into a conservation area along a creek that crosses highway flowing into the Indian River.  It is lush with mangrove trees, swamp grasses and live oaks on both side of the wide creek.  I sometimes find the dolphins feeding in the late afternoon and occasionally the manatee make an appearance.  The bird life is always varied, well-populated, and very active.  It is a good place to shoot because there is a dock that lets me get out closer to the wildlife.

The usual white and brown pelicans were there but not actively fishing.  One of them would occasionally reach down with his bill to scoop up a fish for a snack.  The air was full of terns and gulls and the waters edge was active with snowy egrets, greater egrets and ibises.  A group of a dozen cormorants were diving out in the wide, deeper part of the creek. 

What really caught my eye was an Osprey.  This bird was all over the sky riding the wind, braking to a full stop, staying suspended at one point in the sky the swooping down in a rush then zoom back skyward.  He wasn’t fishing.  He was just buzzed to be in the wind, alive on a sunny day, and just getting off on life.  I watched him for about 20 minutes and took dozens of shots as his performance brought him within ten feet of me.

I could really relate to this bird.  There is nothing I like better than being in the wind on a bright sunny day with a good Harley under me and a fun road ahead of me.  Life just doesn’t get any better than this!

The sky started to get very dark up towards Cape Canaveral as a thick band of clouds came in.  As it edged southwards towards me I decided it was time to fire up the scooter and get on my way to buy dinner for tonight and tomorrow.  The osprey was still hard at it as I rolled up the parking lot and headed back to US #1.

After a quick stop at the supermarket, I arrived in Sebastian and headed over to Indian River Road and a stop at Earl’s for a cold beer to cap off a great short ride to nowhere special.

Riding Into Wellness

Today started out a little rocky for me.  Got up with intentions of writing since it has been a few days.  Got the coffee maker ready to fire up and open the new bag of French Roast and yeah,,, Whole beans!  I guess I didn’t take time to read the label when I pulled it off the shelf. The “Hotel California” is not the kind of establishment that has complimentary grinder in the cabins.  So, water was the Plan B.

By 1 pm I am back on the stoop with some good French Roast beside me as I begin another blog.

Yesterday I went for a nice long ride.  The new Road Glide has 1,500 miles on it now and it is starting to loosen up and feel good under my hands and feet as I ride.  I am still waiting on the new Corbin saddle and the oversized grips so my 3x hands don’t wrap twice around the throttle.

Yesterdays ride took me up the US #1 from Sebastian to Cocoa where I picked up the 210/#50 towards Orlando.  The ride was pleasant and my mind was on the ride as I went through the playlist on my iPod Nano playing through the kickass Harley sound system.  I noticed that many of the osprey nests I check on this route were occupied and one of the pair of birds was sitting on the nest so life continues in Birdland.

The playlist for this ride was a collection of favorites from the Eagles, Jeff Buckley, Emmylou, the Doobies, and even the wonderful pairing of Alison Krauss and Robert Plant.

Riding is therapy for me.  My real therapist refers to it as Harley Davidson therapy and has observed how grounded, happy, and focused I have been since I started my journey on two wheels.  I sent him the link to my last blog and the men with the nets and the rubber-lined truck haven’t come to collect me so he must still hold that belief.

There was a lot on my mind as I mounted up for the ride to Mt. Dora.  I had heard the day before that my former partner’s brother had died suddenly during the week.  I liked this quiet, taciturn man very much.  He didn’t say a whole lot but he spent time at night with his kids jamming in the basement; his son on drums and his daughter on bass and he with his guitar and joined by whoever else might drop in. 

Also on my mind was the decision on when to leave Florida.  The spiteful fingers of winter seem to be reaching south to remind even here in Florida.  I keep delaying my departure to let the weather stabilize so the ride is fun rather than an ironman endurance run. Of course, I had writing on my mind and relationships after receiving many notes and messages from folks who had read my blogs and had their stories or thoughts to offer.

When I ride and the kickstand goes up, the world contracts down to the ride, the road ahead and the Harley.  The thoughts and worries slip away into the holding bin.  I process things but in the back ground so my attention is on getting to where I am going with the shiny side up and my physical self in one piece.  The amazing thing is how I feel mentally after the ride.  All the gnarly stuff I pushed into the holding box seems to settle into a rational state that let’s me make simple decisions and create positive intentions about what I should do about each issue.

Heading west on #50 I soon encountered a crush of traffic caused by construction, the infamous mouse land, and what looked like Chinese New Years celebrations.  Tom Petty was playing “Shout” and that is what I was doing at the plugged route and the cars jockeying with no signals to gain 3 feet and stop.  I reminded myself to stay focused on the ride and carried on until I hit the 441 and headed north towards Mt. Dora. 

I love the area with its winding roads and the woodlands surrounding the road and the pretty lake.  As I got closer to my destination, the clouds rolled in from the gulf side looking angry and foreboding trailing long streamers of rain to the northwest.  Within a few minutes a shower started and my rain gear was carefully stowed in its case back at the “Hotel California”.  A quick glance over my shoulders showed lots of sun south of me so at that point I did a fast U turn and motored towards the sun.  I felt a little like Frodo climbing the Misty Mountains having the weather push back until another route became the only option.

So back I went.  This time I took some alternative roads to get around the traffic.  The clouds seemed to chase me south as I rode and eventually I picked up I 95 and started to make some real time heading south. The music was great all the while.  Memorable stuff from Jeff Buckley’s Grace, Emmylou’s last solo release, Tom Petty’s Wildflowers, and a great performance of If I Should Fall Behind from Faith Hills’ Breath album.

As I motored across Malabar road to pick up Hwy# 1 for the trip south I was aware of this great sense of inner joy and happiness that meant the riding alchemy had done its trick on the holding bin of angst and sadness that had started the ride with me.  It was an easy choice to swing onto Indian River Road to head to the familiar sign of Earl’s and as I killed the motor the sounds of some very good blues coming from the stage.

The day’s ride took 7 hours to cover and distance of 250 miles travelled.  Not a fast ride or any distance record but the payoff was peace of mind, clarity of mind and while I sat having a beer and listening to the band, I looked into the holding bin and the things I had to do to keep balanced and happy were all manageable now and though the clouds continued to build and threaten as evening fell, I was at peace and happy after a day of therapy like no other.

If I Should Fall Behind - Faith Hill

From the new book (and still no title)

The path led to the shore

Water lapping soft cadences

Intertwined branches white shore foam

Funeral shrouded sky with rain

Shower trails from clouds like wet brushes

Painting fountains on the surface

Wind

Surging sighing through piny pipes

A smell of needles and ochre earth

The Presence

Tangible

Reaching out

Touching the face of forever

My heart is an empty room

That still echoes with your laughter

And the sound of your footsteps

As you quietly close the door

Riding one day

It was in a distant part of the plains

You happened upon a small tree rugged

Yet with balance and beauty

In its shape and from

Dismounting

You grasped the tree

With a wish that you could enjoy

Its shade and appearance very day

Its root freely released from its native soil

And loving you carried it home

Looking about your garden

You selected a spot

A spot that would be central

And with love and care you placed the roots

With a Blessing

For the tree to grow and flourish in your home

And flourish it did 

Sending forth new branches and growing strong of root