Imagine having the time...

These days waste away so slowly.  Cribbage and Twitter and general hiding out, from yourself and otherwise, the motivation ridiculously absent.  Not even the ability over days to find the time to write up the hours of the month, until the final moment forces them out.  The mounds of paper piling up on the office desk, the lightbulbs left unchanged at home.  Still... waiting...

Finalizing the syllabus for the class this afternoon, and now running off to an SBTS board meeting - two more commitments that date back many years, and which 2017 may see a necessary end since any inspiration that may have remained has all but run out.

The mind drifts to the joy of no commitments - the ability to see out the buildup to year 40 on the road post-Antarctica.  To have the luxury, the embarrassment of a choice between months in Nepal and Ethiopia, Central America and Sri Lanka.  Yes yes yes.

More to come.  I am leaning toward a longer sailing voyage this Labour Day weekend, which could fire the senses anew.  The Europa remains in Lunenburg, but she is leaving shortly.  How grand it would be for the SC to see her off.

Totality

"Worth everything," someone said, and doesn't that just sum it all up?  Perfect thrill to catch it under a cloudless sky on Old Hickory Lake outside Nashville, capping a wonderful 6 days in America that served as decent inspiration for all that may be ahead - the importance of shifting the daily life's focus to art, creativity, and health, etc.  Back home for a day and the lethargy is clear.  In the book of goals and dreams just a day and a half ago, you wrote of the possibility of sticking around into 2019 at the office for more money, even as you try and pursue the MFA.  If the work continues at this meager, uninspiring pace, I just don't see it.  It would be nice, but the "more free time" call may grow too loud, and it is the change in thinking that is needed, the clean break, to get you out of bed, that can't be solved while tied to the same office and responsibilities.

Europa draw tomorrow to set up a trip to London and Samson's pre-May, with Xmas and NYE elsewhere in another country?  Who knows.  The time for the other Europa - bound soon from Lunenburg to Ushuaia - draws ever nearer.  And in turn so does the chance of the long-dreamed of full escape.  For the third time, you contemplate throwing away a decent job.  The first time you returned in 6 months, the second time in 10.  This time seems like the cord really should be pulled, the safety net left behind in favour of full adventure.  There is time to plan and options available should you find the courage.  The spiritual aura of the mindless time under the umbra is a reminder of what is out there, what awaits.  Get started, and then just do it, eh?

PS - Oh, and the flat?  Fixed like nobody's business, and cheaply done at that at Costco.  Sometmies things can really go from shit to proud/impressive in a hurry.  Worth keeping in mind...

They call you Lord Anthony, But hey...

The day/night before Chicago, and the long-awaited, much-anticipated solar eclipse chase.  A most expensive trip, as you attempt to fit in all appealing experiences, with total disregard for their cost.  Because pourquoi pas? 

Then, funny reminder an hour ago how the thought process can be reoriented in an instant, routine and patterns interrupted.  Twice you missed the chance to take the ferry this morning, all week you have spurned the chances to do the laundry in preparation, to input the hours.  How many times have I taken that turn out of the parking garage?  How close have I come to that curb in times past without similar incident?  How deflating that hissing noise, as you quickly realized the need to pull safely into the visitor parking?  How frustratingly appropriate and single-minded the lack of empathy from the super?  How ridiculous the review of the instruction manual on the ferry?

The flat, just noted here separately for consistency's sake, as metaphor.  Six years ago, and Al tied to it as well.  When you were on the verge of contemplating the applications for Ireland.  Some fitting symmetry in those prior posts, and now.  The trip to Ottawa mapped out yesterday, and late night conversations of chance and magic and serendipity and things that are a' brewing.  The return of the poet.

A million things could have happened differently, to prevent or create even the most trivial of irrevocable accidents.  Accidents that require immediate fixing, that branch your course out into new roads, that shake up the mind from its habitual, unconscious direction.  That point to the opening of windows and doors thought to be locked, or forgotten.  A reminder of possibility, that choices matter, that while you can never fully dictate the flow of events, you can direct them, and that sometimes you need a clean break/snap to shake yourself awake to drop old perspectives and pick up new ones. 

These points of no return are out there, and you have been preparing for the arrival of another seismic one.  If you returned to Vietnam and the lagoon of April 2012, could you make the case for the 2018 plans.  Easily.  And that is really the only question that needs answering.

So enjoy Chicago, starting with Belle and Sebastian tomorrow night, a band you have waited to see since TFI in 1999.  Alinea, a restaurant you have thought of dining in since DS mentioned it his restaurant postings.  Wrigley since forever.  Tootsie's and Bobby's Idle Hour and Santa's just because.  The Ford Mustang.  Then a month to get back on a bit of a workout regiment before the next nostalgic tour through Ottawa - Lucky Ron and all.  



... as the song goes... it could be worse.  Heh.  First, to get this tire repair sorted.  Oh the days.

Flat

For fuck's sake.

Follow Our Track

...or "follow that car", right Alekz?

Humorous dreams last night of a first encounter with the Europa, following the insomnia of another night in, unmotivated, waiting.  Some time to kill before (and now, on) a few afternoon calls before the anticipated Julius and wine in the Park tonight.  So as we refresh to see if Senator B. plans to wait for tomorrow morning to make his arrival, let's make a few assumptions, shall we?

1. Application for the King's MFA filed in February
2. Europa voyage as planned
3. May-June-July (work/notice) August (MFA seminar)
4. September condo rental (sale?) and escape

The key questions become - what to write about?  and where to do it, cheaply?

There will be some travel options on the table throughout the MFA.  Tentatively, if forced to choose today, the next few years could look something like this:

August-September 2018 - Burning Man/California/Utah (?)
Xmas/NYE 2018 - Moncton/Halifax
January-April 2019 - Toronto/Central America (?)
May-September 2019 - Halifax
September-December 2019 - China/Tibet/Nepal/India (?)
January-March 2020 - NYC/New Hampshire/SC/New Orleans/Texas... (?)


That's an expensive potential run-down, with no money coming in.  Sale of the condo could be a huge boost, if you can get a taker over the next summer or two, though a Sept-Apr rental would suit just as well.  Even so, it is a plan that limits other expenses and potential cottage purchases, but still leaves open the sub-150K storage options I would think...

I find on deeper reflection I prefer the freedom of the MFA to the journalism, both the long-form writing over daily ephemorous Tweets and the low-residency versus in-class attendance.  

Or so it seems today.  Maybe tomorrow shall feel different?  I, always, wonder.  As I do about the first of the community to reveal herself for the voyage.  McB.  How funny.  What shall we discuss, a-top that watery Southern Ocean...

The Tallest of Ships, The Blackest of Tots

What a whirlwind of beautiful days out on the venerable Southern Cross this past longish weekend...  Nasser's timely return, Charles and crew, Alison and family, the July 31 old-timers, and then the parade of a finale.  Weather triumphant throughout, and perhaps best of all the conference call to end it.  "Don't you ever think about being really irresponsible and just sailing around the world?"  Every day, haha, every day.  Even more humourous given the early disclosure of Europa in the right quarters, which they will all learn in due course and may find the funnier upon learning what I knew in that moment.

For now, the summer holiday really begins to heat up, with further time at Mush-a-mush, first glimpse of Senator Brockes in Lunenburg with the rest of ships next weekend, and then the Chicago-Nashville experience.  It is all starting to line up, just need to wrap my head around this GR and LF submission and make it sing.  A nice little bump in hours to tide over the lull of August.

202 days until departure.  And much fun before that happy day.  Can you further swing a Cape Breton road trip?  Magdalan islands?  Arsenal?  Country #57?  Much to plan and much to enjoy.  So do it.