I grew up in the 80s in the Southwest, practically on the border between NM and AZ (and I can tell you, if anyone thinks the sun-baked weirdness of Raising Arizona was exaggerated for cinematic purposes, I can testify that it was NOT!) Being from a tiny nowhere town I could only dream of a City, any City...just somewhere where SOMETHING was happening (that something being punk rock shows, mostly! ...I ended up in Dallas, sooo...Meh?)
But, the infinitude of the desert sky...the endless blue day and at night, the STARS, oh the STARS -- I miss it the most...to the point where if I don't visit often enough I start to feel antsy, like I need to go back and recharge by laying out under the desert night sky and soaking in the universe...
As a SW 80s kid, I could only think about being somewhere green. I didn't realize how majestic the sky was. I see it now, when I go back to visit. But, when I was in my 20s all I wanted was green trees, to walk to cafes, and the ocean (hence moving to the Bay). I wanted to be an oceanographer but I was surrounded by desert :-). I now love both and consider them both "home."
Neko. Please pass along to Jon and his family that I have always thought of him as a God of Strings, able to tell a story with any strung instrument. Pass along a hug to them all. Thank you.
Road trips give such unexpected gifts, including inspiration to write.
I recently took a road trip—my first holiday without family, friends, or a spouse in the year that seems to have finally broken me—just me and my mastiff traveling the roads of Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado; seeing rivers I’ve never seen, warming my bones in the winter desert sun, making small talk only with gas station attendants and hotel reservations clerks; appreciating each mile and unknown presence that is ever changing outside of home.
And please keep The Lung going, even if via the new tarsal claws of a cicada.
For someone who has mostly stayed in one place, I do the same thing a lot… Imagine a better, sleeker, stronger version of myself in other locations when I’m there. For multiple reasons I’ve never pulled the trigger, but it’s still in me. I like to think that eventually I’ll figure it all out.
I arrived in Tucson a quarter-century ago, fleeing from New England coastal ghosts that had followed me from New Haven to Austin, TX. Before that I'd never been anywhere for more than a few years, and when I fell in love with New York City, New York hadn't loved me back. In the desert, the sun burns old pain away and toughens the soul into ironwood and mesquite.
Some ran away from here. Some us ran here and stayed.
Beautiful descriptions of your journey, Neko. I was transported from my home in Yorkshire, England, to the places in your long journey. Especially love the descriptions of Missouri. I hope you come to love your new home. And thanks again for your awesome music. I hope one day soon you feel moved to write new songs. Enjoy your new home!
People in colder climes, i humbly posit, treat each other slightly better (the cold wind like a Jack London tale, reminding us of our mortality, of our vulnerablilty). So I'm all for w-i-n-t-e-r, as cold and windy as The Earth ever wants, and wind turbines (especially the much better-designed ones north of Texas) ...and solar panels are allies. (it would be hard for me to ever feel any pleasure at seeing a downed wind turbine). :-/
Great trip and the visual words are a joy to read. I have been on two epic road trip through the USA. In 1975 I did a west coast loop of 1500m in 14 days. In 2009 we did a big circle through 27 states, 10,000m in 6 weeks. Both were immensely enjoyable and if the Covid situation settles down we would like to do another road trip. Keep writing and singing, I love it.
You're something of a migratory falcon, Neko, and your gyre has expanded a bit. Used to be a NW centered creature, and then expanded your range and sought more belonging but still adventuring as the spirit takes you. I live in Barstow these days, and the region is haunted by dreams of Old 66 as the Mother Road. Barstow is mainly home to a lot of things that died with 1-40 and 1-15...lots of empty places in what is largely an empty space...
I'm a transitory type of person. I want to cover as much ground as possible and study every angle of existence. I've made so many quarter baked plans over the past few years to move, mostly to places hugged by trees and mountains. I'm really not a city person at all. The flat plains and farmlands of the Midwest are nice at times, but I want to walk out my door in to a forest. I had a friend just recently move to Asheville and I'm very tempted to follow. I just learned last night that's where Angel Olsen lives, and I'm like maybe if I move somewhere in the proximity of talent like that it would rub off on me. My friend said the music scene there is pretty good in general. Still just daydreams.
Well said. Beautiful said. I took the drive west last winter to flee winter. Wind turbines hold none of the romance of Cervantes and throw me into virtiginous anxiety.
Thank you for the perspective on wind farms. It's sickening to think we're sacrificing the planet with our greed, despite this being "alternative" energy. Consumption keeps going up, and no one says anything about that being the problem. Windmills to power heated swimming pools and mansions and we're supposed to feel good about it. Lovely essay. Thank you
Did the inner screamies start before you left ? Or caused by the drive? I think home is more than where we reside. The sensation of home and connection to place co-exist, and evolves. Thank you for your beautiful writing. Nice closet.
I grew up in the 80s in the Southwest, practically on the border between NM and AZ (and I can tell you, if anyone thinks the sun-baked weirdness of Raising Arizona was exaggerated for cinematic purposes, I can testify that it was NOT!) Being from a tiny nowhere town I could only dream of a City, any City...just somewhere where SOMETHING was happening (that something being punk rock shows, mostly! ...I ended up in Dallas, sooo...Meh?)
But, the infinitude of the desert sky...the endless blue day and at night, the STARS, oh the STARS -- I miss it the most...to the point where if I don't visit often enough I start to feel antsy, like I need to go back and recharge by laying out under the desert night sky and soaking in the universe...
Oh, and the green chile, of course!😄
As a SW 80s kid, I could only think about being somewhere green. I didn't realize how majestic the sky was. I see it now, when I go back to visit. But, when I was in my 20s all I wanted was green trees, to walk to cafes, and the ocean (hence moving to the Bay). I wanted to be an oceanographer but I was surrounded by desert :-). I now love both and consider them both "home."
Neko. Please pass along to Jon and his family that I have always thought of him as a God of Strings, able to tell a story with any strung instrument. Pass along a hug to them all. Thank you.
Love this post.
Road trips give such unexpected gifts, including inspiration to write.
I recently took a road trip—my first holiday without family, friends, or a spouse in the year that seems to have finally broken me—just me and my mastiff traveling the roads of Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado; seeing rivers I’ve never seen, warming my bones in the winter desert sun, making small talk only with gas station attendants and hotel reservations clerks; appreciating each mile and unknown presence that is ever changing outside of home.
And please keep The Lung going, even if via the new tarsal claws of a cicada.
For someone who has mostly stayed in one place, I do the same thing a lot… Imagine a better, sleeker, stronger version of myself in other locations when I’m there. For multiple reasons I’ve never pulled the trigger, but it’s still in me. I like to think that eventually I’ll figure it all out.
I know those south Chicago brontosaurs! When are you writing that novel we all need?
I arrived in Tucson a quarter-century ago, fleeing from New England coastal ghosts that had followed me from New Haven to Austin, TX. Before that I'd never been anywhere for more than a few years, and when I fell in love with New York City, New York hadn't loved me back. In the desert, the sun burns old pain away and toughens the soul into ironwood and mesquite.
Some ran away from here. Some us ran here and stayed.
Beautiful descriptions of your journey, Neko. I was transported from my home in Yorkshire, England, to the places in your long journey. Especially love the descriptions of Missouri. I hope you come to love your new home. And thanks again for your awesome music. I hope one day soon you feel moved to write new songs. Enjoy your new home!
‘Maybe I belong in transit’. You are not alone. So happy you got out on that open road.
People in colder climes, i humbly posit, treat each other slightly better (the cold wind like a Jack London tale, reminding us of our mortality, of our vulnerablilty). So I'm all for w-i-n-t-e-r, as cold and windy as The Earth ever wants, and wind turbines (especially the much better-designed ones north of Texas) ...and solar panels are allies. (it would be hard for me to ever feel any pleasure at seeing a downed wind turbine). :-/
Great trip and the visual words are a joy to read. I have been on two epic road trip through the USA. In 1975 I did a west coast loop of 1500m in 14 days. In 2009 we did a big circle through 27 states, 10,000m in 6 weeks. Both were immensely enjoyable and if the Covid situation settles down we would like to do another road trip. Keep writing and singing, I love it.
You're something of a migratory falcon, Neko, and your gyre has expanded a bit. Used to be a NW centered creature, and then expanded your range and sought more belonging but still adventuring as the spirit takes you. I live in Barstow these days, and the region is haunted by dreams of Old 66 as the Mother Road. Barstow is mainly home to a lot of things that died with 1-40 and 1-15...lots of empty places in what is largely an empty space...
I'm a transitory type of person. I want to cover as much ground as possible and study every angle of existence. I've made so many quarter baked plans over the past few years to move, mostly to places hugged by trees and mountains. I'm really not a city person at all. The flat plains and farmlands of the Midwest are nice at times, but I want to walk out my door in to a forest. I had a friend just recently move to Asheville and I'm very tempted to follow. I just learned last night that's where Angel Olsen lives, and I'm like maybe if I move somewhere in the proximity of talent like that it would rub off on me. My friend said the music scene there is pretty good in general. Still just daydreams.
Well said. Beautiful said. I took the drive west last winter to flee winter. Wind turbines hold none of the romance of Cervantes and throw me into virtiginous anxiety.
Thank you for the perspective on wind farms. It's sickening to think we're sacrificing the planet with our greed, despite this being "alternative" energy. Consumption keeps going up, and no one says anything about that being the problem. Windmills to power heated swimming pools and mansions and we're supposed to feel good about it. Lovely essay. Thank you
Did the inner screamies start before you left ? Or caused by the drive? I think home is more than where we reside. The sensation of home and connection to place co-exist, and evolves. Thank you for your beautiful writing. Nice closet.