driving away has many stages.
1. total sobbing.
3. recovery (false).
4. sad song plays, sobs resume.
5. recovery (true).
6. badly belting your head off with music.
7. voice tired, pensive, watching the road.
8. nostalgia setting in.
and that's just day one. but i think i've got my crying out of the way for the time being. it's really difficult to get used to the idea that i no longer live at 89 dean street. that building is a legend, and the people who live in it have become my family. it's been a protracted goodbye, and a difficult one. cruising down the road gives you lots of time to remember how deeply engrained a place becomes.
but on the other side of the journey is the crazy, open, unwritten place that awaits. i am building a new life. not quite from scratch, but close.
as for the seeing the country part of this trip, the first thing that strikes me, is that this stretch of america is really really whitey white white white. spent most of today driving through pennsylvania, which was incredibly scenic - so many bridges, and atmospheric hillsides, dotted with reb barns and silos.. but sadly, for every beautiful sight, you would pass something that looks like this:
i stopped to get gas at a roadside stop that looked quaint and interesting, not those tacky white trash rest stops, and realized that it was an amish community. i saw a man in the classic garb with his two daughters in a cart being pulled by a horse. i decided to drive around the town and see if there was anything cool around. the sun was shining bright, and it was so damn hot. this church looked pretty cool, bright yellow, against the blue sky, the green grass, and bright white tombstones in the graveyard behind it. so i stopped and took some pics. click for the larger size panorama shot..
thank you for your text messages and emails! i have the best friends, i really do.