I’m worried about the heat. I’m a pansy when it comes to heat – i.e. I wilt. By Monday morning I’m discouraged and trampled with the knowledge that dreams don’t last forever. We’re coming up on the end of a year – not Lived the way I’d imagined, and not as well travelled as I’d hoped, but with so much more than I’d feared, and with so many visions floating in my head.
Heather may be kind of a girly girl – but she made this home for us in the Indiana pseudo-wilderness.
We’ve been Living off of our take of CD and art sales and my illustration and our guile and our whimsy and our savings for nine months and twelve days now, and that twelve month mark is coming up. I feel frightened, because that means that we’ll have accomplished all we set out to do, with out really accomplishing anything that I’ve set out to do. That doesn’t really seem fair.
I worry that I waited too long, and now I’m nothing but an unemployed, homeless almost thirty-year-old man who has sort of screwed up.
Last night’s storms as we were playing the Barrister Hall open mic were spectacular and typical Midwest. Lightning like rivers in the sky. Lightning that wasn’t white, or even blue white, but vivid greens. Flashes that went until dawn, and only once did we ever hear thunder. This was something that was attacking the sky and threatening God.
The open mic itself left much to be desired, more of a garage type jam session than an open mic. I spent a good deal of the night just sort of wandering around the streets of Columbus, wishing some rain would come. It snuck in and left while we were on stage. Plenty of lightning however.
Hrm. Camping. Never been camping before. Fire pit, fire flies, RVs and hunters. We’ll be here for two nights, in Greenfield, Indiana – and if it was a little cooler, I’d want to stay here forever.
As it is, I’m eager to take a shower tonight.
The sunset is spectacular, and we head west into the city, to see Indianapolis in all it’s night-time glory.
Well, I have some time to write, because we’ve just been pulled over for speeding, just outside of Indianapolis. I’ve got a pretty good feeling about it all, as I’ve never gotten a ticket before and Heather’s never even been pulled over before, but it’s times like this that I REALLY miss the old Saturn with it’s cruise control…
Of course, as soon as I write that, I get all paranoid about my registration, but in theory, all of that was cleared up, and I have the paperwork to prove it – but paperwork is what always makes me nervous – it’s what gets misfiled and misplaced and erased and the office responsible is never HELD responsible, and it all falls back on your neck. And now they’re checking the VIN…