There are a lot of things that I don't understand in this world. Like why we bombed Japan and then made more and more bombs as a means to "secure peace" in the world, and why we as a nation have chosen to separate from the UN in our practice of global conquest? I just don't get where that desire comes from. I also don't understand why vinegar is good for the pH of the human body- making it more alcholine even though it is an acid, or why arid climates are good for bones. There are lots of things to learn and imagine.
Night falls and the smell of juniper rolls off the hillside racing greedily with the warm breeze into my hungry head. This is New Mexico, I think. The dessert with its freckled hills and ashen mountains blowing and rubbing and washing away to fill the gullies of already dried-up rivers. We see mostly cats and dogs for road kill, and a tall-horned elk at the roadside- unafraid, but smart enough to step aside. Dark takes bed in the wooded valley, the crooks of the peaks, my face and body, before the sky. We are reminded of sun, her blessed pressence as our skin begins to creep and get cold. There's 3.1 miles on our darkened path before we find our possible rest- the organic farm of a man that doesn't know us or even that we're coming. Richard! Linda calls out as she leads us through her neighbor's yard. She's holding a flashlight and we scramble closely behind with out bikes along the narrow bridges, around school buses and hey bails. There is a dog barking and Linda shouts again- Richard! (not American but French, Reeshard) We end up in the long bus- a beautiful schoolbus-house with kitchen and loft and wood-stove and couch. It is clean and spacious and wonderful! We awake in the middle of the night to the sounds of Emilie's imagination, speaking so loudly and visciously in her dreams that we heard them out of her head. Eric had planted a seed of trouble through a bad cell-phone connection and we had to actively banish the fearful thoughts which have been altogether foreign to our minds so far. In the morning we woke without an alarm, only the rooster crowing Goodmorning! Feed us! And we will, with the compost from our feast of morning greens, eggs, peppers, potatoes, garlic and cream, all from the farm or a neighbor's farm. Amazing the bounty and beauty. We continue on our way today to a sheep farm north 50 miles. I hope to find a bed that is a pile of wool.
We were in Los Alamos the other day, visiting ancient pueblo ruins and the nuclear bomb museum. There seems to be a strong disconnect in the presentation of the museum and the history which it disturbed and created. We visited a farmer's market the next morning and changed our course completely per the recomendatios of the man, Michael who we played music with, and his friends, Hilda (from Ithaca no foolin!) and Jennifer the photographer who kindly shot the photos that will soon be a part of this post.
Off goodbye, the road ahead lies... Rose and Ed the Tiny Invisibility Circus are only 80 miles from us, but we will not be able to make it as it would cause a back-tracking and we are hot on the trail of some wool, hot-springs and Moab, UH. Lots of love and fun...Kate
The votes were so close for the last day of our Kansas City stay that we decided to combine the two most popular. It was a difficult decision and your votes made it much easier, thank you all for your input, I hope that no one is disappointed with the verdict. At 10:55pm on Saturday night we boarded a train from Kansas City, MO to Lamy, NM. We arrived this afternoon and road north to Santa Fe in search of the sister of a friend of the family of Stark. KC was great! We got to see all of Emilie's family, see some great art, eat well, and see the unveiling the busts. Tomorrow we head South to Albuquerque where there is a Balloon Festival happening. Our plan is to offer our musical accompaniment on balloon rides...
Here's a photo of us in Missouri on the Katy Trail, (thank you Robert Atkinson). We are still without working camera but will have more pictures soon via disposable camera. More later:
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This project has been made possible by generous contributions from, The Cornell Council for the Arts, Linda and Jeff Shearman, Mary Fessenden, Tara Cooper, BJ Ewing, Lucile Stark, Elaine from the Pharmacy/cafe, Terry Smith, the man at the Gas Station in New Albany, Dave and Jim, Bill and Beth, the girls at Huck's, Diana and Michael, Buzz Spector, Niel, Tim Hayes, Eric Kincade, Blake, Maggie Stark, Connie and Paul, Randy and David, Chris Mathias, Steve (the owner of) Escalante, Stacy Weber, and many others like you...
On September 11th, 2007 the Barn Stormin’ Brother’s began a journey on bicycles that would carry them from Roanoke, Virginia to San Francisco, California performing their work-in-progress, The Two-Headed Nightingale in Laundromats along the way. The Brothers will travel from east to west retracing the steps of the colonial conquest, in an attempt to understand the deep-rooted dream in which land is seized, secured, and exploited in the name of the free. The piece uses song, dance and theatrical vignettes to test the limits of the self. Where does one human being end and another begin? Why do we live in a country that values private property? The performance is constructed as a string of brotherhood equations that evaluate this country’s obsession with ownership and material wealth. We will perform in Laundromats because it is a unique type of public space. We will offer an alternative entertainment, an oasis, which fights prejudice and oppression with a slew of back-bending dance moves, saw-tooth rambling and dizzying percussion. De-robe and De-pants, as we build a wild west out of soap and socks at your local Laundromat.