against the flow - foto by smith

Thomas Wolfe wrote “You Can’t Go Home Again”. Even if you could, Siddhartha’s ferryman won’t let you step in the same river twice since it’s never the same river because it’s always new water, new you.

I know what river Cleveland’s like–I should, I spent 29 years there–so when I go back and see it anew with my modified me, the changes will tell me more about me than Cleveland.

We awoke this morning in beautiful Oaxaca Mexico, will sleep 1,946 miles northeast cold in Cleveland Ohio. As the dead man says, what a long strange trip it be.

We get good words(*) going out the door . . .

Got hugged by our landlords, so I think our 15 month residency has been a success. Of course it helps that we smile, say hello, pay our rent early, don’t make noise, don’t cause trouble.

The owner of the small breakfastlunch across the street said next time we come, we can stay at his house (I think he means rent).

The guy we buy our 40 pound bottles of water from below us says too bad we’re going. Can’t be just the money because the 80 pounds of water we buy a week only comes to $1.60

Gonzalo of the internet cafe, avocado tree, and Saturday grilled chicken across the street gave us a ceramic heart and an avocado.

An older gringo who’s been living here 20 years says she’s sorry to see us go because we’re not sun bunny tourists like most these days but more like the seekers who came for adventure back then.

Young woman in Krakow Poland and an old man in Liznjan Croatia told us they were happy to meet us because they saw not all Americans were bad.

So we done good here and there along the way.

(*) I found when we left Cleveland mid-2006, if you want folk to say good things about you, just leave town. They’ll say most anything just to get you gone.

precaution - foto by smith

Madmaxman’s cactus - foto by smith

There’s a flaw in our ointment, a chink in our chance, but there is new appointment to which we advance.

pin line - foto by smith

Oaxaca City, Oaxaca Mexico - foto by smith

Day after tomorrow we leave 80 degree weather to go live in 28 degree weather. No one can say we don’t go against the flow as we go from perpetual sun to ice snow gray and blow.

15 months living in paradise is more than enough. Every day is slow and endless and the same yet time passes quickly here.

Lady asked me what I’d miss most about Oaxaca. Hard to say before the fact but I’d guess the sun, the light, the warmth, our 3rd floor roof patio with 270 degrees of mountains rising around us, the brilliant colors of the buildings, the endless variety of fruit and flower trees, the friendly people, the lively streets with their constant people animal vehicle vignettes, and having an endless supply of almost free weed.

But, Lady is right - we’re in an isolated fog down here, especially with me smoking 12 hours a day for 15 months. We’ve been traveling 31 months now, and it’s time to return to see who we’ve become and how that changes what we left. I figure on staying in Cleveland just long enough to get Criminal published and then we’ll move on - possibly to the Far East and New Zealand.

We also need to find younger English speakers. Most the gringos here range from 66 to 85 years old, and have come down to retire or die, while we’re still churning, still living life. We need poetry readings and edgy art openings. Here it’s all a wee bit too polite and genteel, at least when the drug cartel and the police aren’t shooting each other over who gets the largest cut of the narco profits.

The coolest cultural scene we’ve come across in our journey was Krakow Poland with its huge underground English speaking music scene, but that fell apart soon after we moved on (nothing to do with us, just timing). We met our coolest friend there - Blue7 - who was the leader of a rock n roll avant garde cabaret garage band called Urban-Jellen Test. He finally moved back to the U.S. after 7 years of travel and is in Hollywood now working on the Iron Man 2 movie as an artist. Even though our book Criminal has yet to be published, he’s read it and is interested in trying to get it made into a film. Boy do I ever wish him luck.

The second coolest cultural scene we’ve seen (outside of Cleveland which knocks em all out) was London England. Massive amount of poetry readings, tons of decent poets (most but not all way too tame and polite), fairly mediocre art - but the city’s so loud and expensive I can’t see ourselves living there. I discovered I could also live in Amsterdam or Paris, but again both cities are too expensive for our lack of funds.

When the book is published, then maybe the equation will change.

local building colors - foto by smith

traveling on - foto by smith

I’m feeling antsy, in undetermined unstableville because we’ve 17 days before total system shock when we move from Oaxaca Mexico (83 degrees, 25% humidity) to Cleveland Ohio (35 degrees, 73% humidity). Feel antsy because we no longer fit here (or are here in our heads) yet ain’t there.

Also feel unfocused because I’ve finally finished turning our book into a non-fiction proposal, and it comes across so counter-culture we wonder if and how mainstream agents and publishers will respond. We came down to Mexico to finish the book, and we’re going back to Cleveland to get it published. After that, we out of there again.

Until then, who knows?

Do know it’s time to move on. Too much grass and hash and daze and haze here–sun day after day, time slipping away, focus going astray, worries beginning to bray, anxieties starting to play, 15 months drifting going gray, slowly losing my way, tired of avoiding the fray, time to make American hay, looking for words rhyming with a and phrases meaning less mess and more may.

liberation - foto by smith