Semi-filtered scribbles calling attention to the smaller more intimate details and the mediocre honesty in The Befores, The Beginnings, The Goings, and Durings, The Wanderings and The Returns.
After re-organizing the van, we finally made our way out by 8:44PM. I tried giving the movie theatre chair a try, but alas, sitting backwards my car sicknezz preceded me and I took off my boots and crawled over the storage bins, leather tools and beer boxes to the pile of blankets nestled between the backpacks and paintings. With no working radio, we all tossed the job of singing onto the other... Lucas claiming he couldn't (liar), and myself - handed out Sir MixaLot, where Kell immediately told me to stop - all according to my plan to not have to sing :) the first miracle being, not voted out of the van right then and there.
Anyway, woke up at 12:19AM to a grip of honking, off-distance yelling, and a car hood slamming. In a daze, and nearly hitting Lucas throwing my boot I ask what's happening... turns out the Dodge keeps overheating while being stopped in bumper-to-bumper traffic... leading to its' temporary death into the far right lane with no end in sight of the road construction or car accident/damage control. Then once reaching what seemed could be the end around 2AM they shut down the road and poor sleep-deprived Kellen was told to turn around and go back the 215/15 merge 4 miles onto the 395. [Insert intense aggravation]
Took us 12 hours to get to Crowley Lake, including Kellen's 2 hour zzz time at a truck stop. I'm surprised there wasn't a permanent imprint of my body in the cocoon I made for myself in the back once Lucas pulled me out and helped me come to my senses... but no joke, best 12 hours of sleep I've had in months.
Arrived around 830AM, spent all morning cleaning Kellen's stuff to store, and organized the SHIT out of that van, then dolled it up with all those homie vibes.
Car meltdown #4
Money from the Gas Pool spent: $160ish
Miles driven: 356ish+
Margaritas had: 2/each
Jerkey consumed: 1 bag (already)
Off to the hot springs now, and Eureka in the morning.
Not sure what happened to my wannabe dedicated documentation of all crap-going-ons during my "precious time on earth"... be it consumed by the upside down emotional merry-go-round that has me yacking up time and self respect, or that reverse culture shock as I have tried to retrace my roads and moments here; only to end up too exhausted to go through all the feels and deals of a backpack-life abruptly U-turned to the 9-5/high blood pressure/ear-shattering days & insomniac nights... Which brings us to this near-to-cross-country hiatus brought to you by Kellen Carr and his orange dream-machine, 1976 Dodge Tradesman, with live entertainment by Lucas Dalager and attempted-to-be documentation by yours truly.
But, I'll try to spare all of us the lil bugger facts of the van-dwelling preparation and our real-life civilian income... (seeing that Uncle Kellen will not be returning) lets have y'all assume you know about the pull-out stove, and drawers he built with his own two hands under the bed in the back of his van, and the paneling and the sound system - that he has yet to wire on through - all yes, very rad. Continuing on, if the end ever comes, the dream will leave Lucas and I to find our way back to California... granted 1) we DO come back and 2) don't get struck by lightning or a moose or a buffalo, cause who fucking knows what'll come first...
Oh right, so why are we doing this? Leaving our comfortable homes, our comfortable jobs, and our comfortable interactions with a society that asks you how you're doing, but really doesn't care? (it's ok, I don't care either) Trust me, I have nothing but the deepest gratitude for the opportunities and the stability here, but I'm always hungry for more. It's just...searching beyond the feeling of fulfillment. Honestly, this is a van of starving animals.
Went to a sushi restaurant called Jam Jam for lunch during their all-you-can-eat happy hour. €11.90 per person, featuring a merry-go-round of sushi, noodles, fruits, and deserts. Pretty awesome when you didn't smack your hand against the glass doors trying to snag the plate you wanted.
Muffin Vitamins
Mail was a pain, but it had to be done. Don't ask me how much my 6kg box of shinanigans cost me... alright it cost €47 but it had to be done, and having the goods inside was well worth it (just go with it and humor me). It cost €3.75 for each of these small packages and I almost lost it when they said they don't accept credit cards when I'm staring at the machine right there. Killin me Germany. So, note to self they don't believe in credit, only debit. Ridiculous, and of course I'm debitcardless thanks to the ass in Ibiza.
After washing our hands of that madness, we headed to the Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe costing €7 and finally accepted my credit card - I'm saving cash for the Train tix and groceries - where it's mostly ever only cash. Oiii god bless. But there was a good handful of exhibits we wanted to see, and meeting up with another friend of Anna's we started with Steve McCurry and his breathtaking images over the years.
Hi.
McCurry's work blew me away. From Cambodia to India to Tibet and Afghanistan. His story of finding the woman of his infamous Afghan Girl portrait 17 years later... To capture everything between tragedy, and joy, the painful and thriving, youth and age... I can only wish I could freeze it all the same when I photograph my travels, wanderings, everyday life.
Nowadays, few can really just let an image be taken of them, without wanting to change themselves or wanting something in return. Two extremes in a way, therefore altering any meaning the image may have had before. I suppose it's only fair, but at the same time, it would be nice to just trust how the dirt lays on your face, how the emotions shine in your stance, just, how you are - is perfect (otherwise the photographer will just say so anyhow haha)... in all seriousness, I just like to prove something, someone, somewhere exists. So, shh. be still.
In a nutshell I envy McCurry and how he goes about his profession. To be able to blend in, and show so many diverse areas of life. It's beautiful, depressing, enlightening, and heavy.
Art Nouveau rooms for rent
Cairo Exhibit
Inside Out
The rest of the museum was a maze, but enjoyed running through the other exhibits like Name That Thing, Art Nouveau, Inside Out, Cairo, etc til our feet felt like they were going to fall off. Made our way through Humana, a sweet second hand clothing store before climbing the stairs back home (I think there's one in Berlin too?) A great selection of vintage and second hand, but definitely smaller than the Kleidermarkt. Shirts ranging €5 to€15... And if you're lucky you may get to even talk the price down.
Anna helped me book my way down to Berlin, a 3 hour ride that cost €15 so about the same as a rideshare, but it all depends on the time and whatever you have too. This is just from the Centralstation of Hamburg (ZOB) to the Berlin Central bus station (ZOB).
Intimate shit back at the Karussell
CHOWDER
DANKE ANNA & friends. It was a short stay in Hamburg, but I don't think I could have asked for a better transition into Germany! The people, the food, the art. Dig it all. It's always refreshing to encounter people will similar aspirations... or let's be a little more broad, people with an aspiration in general. We are, who we surround ourselves with. And, to me that means we can either drag each other down with fake rainbows and excuses, making a hole in the boat, sink beneath the surface ... or motivate and push each other harder to keep on the path we cut with our own machete! No more distractions. More room for succeeding. Becoming the person you want to be means nothing if you aren't aware of the kind of person you are now.
