Sunday Checkin: Year 3 – from Seattle to SMF

I’ve been on the road for two weeks now, mostly visiting friends and family with a day or two of driving time in between. I’m updating from Sacramento on the day of whitewashed gaslight homage that is thanksgiving, better known as day of mourning, in which we not only continue to ambiently ignore but also blatantly celebrate the deliberate genocide of the people whose stolen land we’re sitting on. Remember kids, #whitesupremacy is #terrorism.

The trip has been good so far. I picked up a boat toilet thanks to Adam, who is a patron here and also sent me an Amazon gift card for my birthday, so now I have the option of pooping someplace other than a plastic bag.

Truth be told, I’m not sure how excited I am about this yet, as dealing with water and enzymes and finding a place to store another thing are all cons on the list when considering this upgrade; but one of the points of this trip is to a) fit entirely in the van without roof storage and b) learn to let go of more of the nice-to-have shit in favor of having the basics — like a place to poop, and secondary electrical, which will all take up space. Really, considering these changes are the biggest conundrum on my mind right now, stuff is going pretty well I think.

In terms of mechanical issues, the van is running perfectly since fixing that coolant leak, and started right up in Salt Lake Cities recent ~27 degree weather. Not only did I not panic and freeze and call for a tow and hemorrhage money and time getting diag from a mechanic when my van was smoking coolant not 60 miles outside of Seattle, I also nursed said van over the mountain passes and kept my head about me spending only $20 on a jug of anti-freeze to get to my first sanctuary spot in Kennewick, where I then damned the darkness and the cold and put a headlamp on and pulled out my toolkit and ripped off my panels and doghouse and got the fuck in there and took shit apart and tracked down my motherfucking coolant leak, then fixed the damn hose with my bud in his driveway. I was very proud of myself for a while.

In addition to the doodling, I’ve added a watercolor created while in Salt Lake City, “Silent Treatment”, to my store at

I’m taking less video this trip, since taking video last trip has resulted in me having a bunch of video to deal with. :P I might use this year to get b-roll and edit the cold front documentary from last year in laptop-managable chunks, like this one. I’m also finding that talking to a camera is not the same as talking with my friends, so rather than trying to sort of interview myself in a vacuum, I am planning to periodically post polo’s from the conversations I have.

I got my first round of the road sobs on my way through Reno, listening to the Mystere soundtrack for the first in many years. It was the first Cirque show I had ever seen, and it was live, and I was reminded of the surge in my chest and how awake I felt, how overwhelming it was when the drummers began descending from the ceiling, and how instantly I knew I wanted to be a part of that somehow.

I really think in terms of the feeling I expect I’ll have when I know what I’m going to do next, it’s something along the lines of wanting that badly to be a part of something again. I don’t know where it is, or when it is, but I am looking for another something I can worm my way into, take a big chunk of, and let change me.

I thought, for a moment, to audition my vocals to Cirque, again.


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