blues

shack up inn. harmonica camp. favorites. last juke alive. novalife. cotton fields.

this place was fullilove. 

clarksdale, missisippi. 

who knew. 

we didn’t go live in our van for fifteen weeks to prove anything. not to defy society. not for luxurious destinations. attention or to follow the tiny home trend. further, there are few roadtreks along the east coast. even fewer travelers with two large dogs in an eighteen foot van.

looking back. it wasn’t always the so-called van community that brought us close to people. it varied. in clarksdale it was music. culture. history. shared interest. and

harmonica camp. 

yes, that’s right. harmonica camp.

we went to the shack up inn on a recommendation. stayed in the biscuit shack for one night. it poured. the gunny shack for one night. it steamed. fullilove shack for two nights. sunshine. stayed in nova in the cotton field for two nights. rain (go figure). the electric blue shack for one night. (mostly at the juke joint, can't remember the weather.) but the person who was in electric blue met someone at camp and offered it to us for the last night. word up. you know who you are. 

y'all are like a sticky booger. the owner said. 
and proceeded to invite us to the gospel group on Sunday. he also joined us for dinner.
the clientele has changed, he told us, it used to be more like you guys, now I have to tell people not to throw beer cans off the front porch. it’s just different.  

lame.

our week in clarksdale deserves far more than a post here, maybe even a significantly longer work i need to flesh out in time. but. . .  more like us. . . ?

we were nicknamed legs for wearing shorts all the time (frequently with boots thanks to the mississippi mud). we sat on the front porch of a shack with some of the best harp players in the world. we drank whiskey out of plastic cups while I humbly absorbed my initial harp lesson. we took sunset walks through the still-working Hopson cotton plantation pinetop perkins and muddy waters used to farm. we stickered up our van and hung our hammock behind the shack. we supported the musicians. we know the history of robert johnson. i read salinger while jonny read napoleon. the dogs lounged carelessly as people mingled about. we are a couple from NYC traveling in nova to learn and experience. we live where we are. nowhere and everywhere. 

we met some of our favorites in clarksdale. fond memories of sweet company. dancing. blues. support. and soul.

we stumbled upon a like-minded group. whether more like us, or us more like them. brilliant. 

snapshots are in snapshots

getdrunkbeardownandplaythatharp

and

dothenovadance

and

hugyourdog

love and vengeance. power in association.

co-pilot. genius. security system. teacher. best friend. this hug.

genius. 

stubborn. persistent. sweetest.

loyal.

always. hungry. brilliant. 

loyal. 

determined. brilliant. companion

you broke the mold girl

can’ t imagine the last nine years without you

may eighth was this beauty's birthday. it all began with a plane ride. then a house. maine. an apartment. maine. a house. another apartment. maine. another house. road trip. montauk. murphy. road trip. road trip. who knows how many moves and miles. and finally. 

the past fifteen weeks in nova 

from maine down to key west back up the gulf into louisiana to find my heritage up the mississippi into memphis through tennesee the smoky mountains kentucky horse country class five rapids in west virginia and back on the east coast in annappolis maryland into nyc and upstate and yes. that's right. maine for her birthday. 

this photo was taken in myrtle beach. that's me under the wool hat. the camera jonny used was stolen in memphis when nova was broken into while we walked toulouse and murphy to the mississippi riverfront. 

you’re being watched. he said.

highest crime rate in the country.  she said.

the reality of it all was, in fact, dangerous. so we left. sad and disturbed though simultaneously grateful. maybe it’s a matter of perspective or reflection, but what it comes down to is that toulouse. bean. nova. jonny and I are all ok. still get my hugs. still have my art. 

i'm home in nyc for the moment. though technically. i’m not great at being in one place for more than a few days. i do crave my book collection and writing supplies. pencils preferred. also the company of my dogs. if there is no water nearby, not even a creek. i’m generally not at home in the philosophical sense of the interpretation. of course. we could go on and on about the meaning of home.

whether a snapshot reminds me of myrtle beach with toulouse or the violation of nova is up to me. the power of association. art is everywhere. 

i’m not sure what i know.          if anything at all.           but i’m learning. 

so here’s to many more stories. snapshots. poetry. memories and favorite company.

homeiswhereyourdogis

getdrunkbeardownanddothenovadance