Mile 284, Freya Street, Spokane, Washington State.
Driver: Suzanne. Purpose: roadtrip. Summer 2011.
1/4 of the way through the journey. Below is a collage of the text I have used in my maps, they are my words and words stolen from Emily Dickinson, Edgar Allan Poe, Walt Whitman, J.R.R Tolkien, Antoine de Saint-Exupery, James Joyce, . . .
You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.
Bellevue is not a belle vue
Taking Tiger Mountain (by strategy)
Some ideas arrive in the form of a dream
Think you’re escaping and run into yourself
The owls are not what they seem
We are ignorant of many beautiful things
Out of the distance opposite equals advance
The brights suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place,
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward.
I thought all the trees were whispering to each other.
I stare and stare out the window with my eyes out of focus.
In the summer there are fields of alpine flowers. Elephant ears.
Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world.
“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail
The ecchoing green
The whitest white that white can be white.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold.
Look: the trees exist
I go to the hills when my heart is lonely
The edge of the Drowned Forest.
Sometimes the lake is not there.
Just the Valley of the Stumps and some puddles.
There shall be no Alps.
Victory belongs to the most persevering.
The sublime and moving space between
I feel strangely normal
And what’s mine is my own
And mark it with signs for its remembrance
What you seek is seeking you.
This changeful life has slipped away
I do not fear to be alone
In the silent forest listening.
I and this mystery here we stand
Who knows upon what soil they fed their hungry thirsty roots?
Let not light see my dark and deep desires
Exterior Atmosphere of inflammable Air
One of the minor pyramids
I shall implode, collapse inside the abyss of myself, towards my buried centre, infinitely
Does your journey take place only in the past?
You can see it in the slow movements of the hands of the clock
there’s a bluebird in my heart
stars ink your fingers
Take the sap and leave the heart
The world is grey, the mountains old.
Nought may endure but mutability
It’s really angel tears, how long must they cry
To see you laughing as you look up at the sky
You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.
Fabled by the daughters of memory
There is no evidence to justify having this fence.
The flag of my disposition
Nothing gold can stay
I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way
Where is the horn that was blowing?
Order was the dream of man
I am never lonely
An unknown and timid pressure
All the pretty little horses
Dapples and grays, pintos and bays.
Sad dirty white
We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed.
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun
Electric Machine. Hesperian Dragon. Electric Kiss. Halo round the heads of Saints. Electric Shock. Fairy-rings
And the rest is rust and stardust
In case you forgot, I didn’t.
All distance breathes a final dream of bells
Pass boldly into that other world
I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone.
When grass was green and grain was yellow
The bright and hollow sky
Yesterday and tomorrow cross and mix
What are ideas, if they are not animal motions?
Like a wheel within a wheel
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
Love created the Universe. Chaos explodes. All the Stars revolve.
Trees are sanctuaries.
Gods are concerned mostly about trees
Which prisoners call the sky
Sitting with our tails curled while the machine amuses us
The converging objects of the universe perpetually flow
There’s a green to seen with – vivid vibrant living alive
What he sought was always something lying ahead
I do not believe in time
In the Valley of the Many Colored Grass
My star that dartles the red and the blue!
Often rebuked, yet always back returning
I had a teacher who told us why artists love trees. I remember none of it but I know we do.
The rectilinear belongs only to Geometry and not to Nature and Life.
Winding stealthily about in mazy courses, it passed away.
Tinting the atmosphere’s top
Gleams of a remoter world Visit the soul in sleep
The lightning of my being is as bright
The Temple of Nature
One forgets, one waits
A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, and pavement stars.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that, and I intend to end up there.
They stretched in never-ending line.
There is more to life than simply increasing its speed
Lost in my dream, my spirit soars
When soft the western breezes blow.
All photographs testify to time’s relentless melt
Shooting Stars. Lightning. Rainbow. Colours of the Morning and Evening Skies.
Melancholy is sadness that has taken on lightness.
Visions in a peasant’s heart on the hillside
No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere
And all they can do is stare blankly
Cupid snatches the Thunderbolt from Jupiter
Never its mysteries are exposed
The goodly earth and air
The Spirit of Solitude
The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.
For the blue dream of sky
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
Truth outlasts the sun
The degree of slowness is directionally proportional to the intensity of memory.
The degree of speed is directionally proportional to the intensity of forgetting
I cannot remember the last time I received a letter. The only people who wrote me were my grandmas.
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Where you thought you were going to never was there
Memories images, once they are fixed in words, are erased.
When soft the western breezes blow
Sessions of sweet silent thought
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best go to their eternal rest
A strange feeling as the slow gurgling stream slipped by
Wheels so close against the sun
All photographs are momento mori
Where are you going?
And mark it with signs for its remembrance.
The rhythmical creation of beauty
And I am the most elusive captive in the universe
In the valleys and shores of universal life
Wander in gladness, and wind down
Hard by the Sea of Dreams
By a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only
I have reached these lands but newly
From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, Out of SPACE – Out of TIME.
For the tears that drip all over.
Into seas without a shore.
Lakes that endlessly outspread their lone waters
In each nook most melancholy
Sheeted Memories of the Past
‘T is a peaceful, soothing region
Never its mysteries are exposed
From this ultimate dim.
Banish Air from Air
Divide Light if you dare
While Cubes in a Drop
Or Pellets of Shape
Films cannot annul
Odors return whole
Over your impotence
Where you come from is gone
Where you thought you were going to never was there
Our imagination cannot be anything but anthropomorphic
Departure of the Nymphs of Fire like Sparks from artificial Fireworks
I love all sights of earth and skies
All curious things, above, below
The grass divides as with a comb
Bring me the sunset in a cup
Write me how many notes there be
And shut the windows down so close my spirit cannot see
Who’ll let me out some gala day with implements to fly away
Quiet but not lonely
One line plus one line results in many meanings
Hide the world from the world
The monster guards
The longing for repetition
Which is the bliss of solitude
I gazed – and gazed – but little thought
I wandered lonely as a cloud
Continuous as the stars that shine and twinkle on the milky way
That fitful strain of melancholy which will ever be found inseperable from the perfection of the beautiful
Sighs at every fading of the stars
Silence, exile, and cunning
Buds and Flowers expanded by Warmth, Electricity, and Light.
The windows and the stars illumined, one by one
The pole that swings the earth around the sun
A view of mystique and wonderment
Light-hearted I take to the open road
May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel
Latent with unseen existences
He broke through the barriers of the skies
Just to that intense and pure elevation of the soul
They pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be interdicted
What does it matter what reality is outside myself
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Pledging their love to the ground
Lonely but free I’ll be found
Nowhere to go but I’ll find
That new world’s born at dawn
Flashed as they turned in air
The line they broke
O the wild charge they made!
I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air
We can run and race and swim and fly and dive
Leave my loneliness unbroken
This earth’s a hurled dream
The Bird of Time has but a little way to flutter
How sweet I roam’d from field to field
I stand amid the roar of a surf-tormented shore
Is it therefore the less gone?
Open your eyes when you awake
I walk’d with that electric self seeking types
There is an eloquence in true enthusiasm
Sail pathless and wild seas
There was only one Road
What does it matter what reality is
No knowing where you might be swept off to
It’s always our self we find in the sea.
Wiser than the horses of instruction
I have not seen as others see
And disappear in the blue depths of the sky
All that is not my soul
Turn from gazing after and down the road
Just a perfect day
You’re going to reap just what you sow.
It curves, curves are beauty
Sure as the most certain sure.
Mystical, faint in the breathless air
Like fingers running upon the wires
All the truth but tell it slant
I may not remove nor be removed
Made of desires and fears
Weave and unweave his image
Overlook a space of flowers
To plan and to organize, to order, to relate and to control
Let the stars and songs go. Let the faces and years go.
A summons to all my foolish blood
Breaking the long loneliness
In the wasteland of desire
In the dawn of a most stormy life
They are there and I am here
Make the noise of waves
Vibrations emphacized and gone
All I lov’d – I lov’d alone
Your impassive surfaces
And never stops – at all
Wandering wide through the infinite immensity
Throw Love out of the window
Wider than the Sky
When the rest of Heaven was blue
Go up to the Merciful Town
Before the nothing place began
Half as hard to take
Seas of misunderstanding
I can take you farther than any ship could take you
There is no beauty without some strangeness
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
Rushing so swiftly and swimming with me far away
At peace with all below
Echoes of departure
Through fields of air
The day worth living
A longing to wander tears my heart
Rising from this abbys
Shall we choose? weight or lightness?
Loved save love and liberty
Not asking the sky to come down.
In favour with their stars
I love to watch the stirring
One line plus one line results in many meanings.
What to do with the time that is given us
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea
Half-savage and hardy, and free
Which comes upon the silence.
The river is everywhere.
Unseen, inscrutable, invisible
No earth-born echo
Locked in foreverish time
The eye does not see things but images of things that mean other things
How warm the wind must blow
Love is to surrender love
At a turn in the path
Excites the sensitive soul to tears
The sun that ’round me roll’d
I lost a World-
In one dear perpetual place
Struggles to be truly free
Awake. Love. Think. Speak. Be walking trees.
I will arise and go now
I left my body on a distant shore
I know that you’re there
Lover of leaving
As dreams are made
Too excited to be
Through the whispering air
On and on and on and on
And so come down again
Through the field of air
Like cloud on cloud.