44 DAYS TO ARGENTINA

Where To Find Us Now...

2008-08-10T14:24:00.000-07:00

If you would like to continue to follow our stories this is where you can find us:

Jimmy:
blog | www.HarmonyAndDissonance.com
artwork | www.jimmydanko.com

Annie:
blog | www.EsplendorYMiseria.com

Thanks for reading...
Jimmy & Annie~

Day 44

2008-07-06T19:16:00.001-07:00

Day 44, July 6th, 2008, Buenos Aires, Argentina

I have journeyed 44 years on this planet, 44 days on this journey alone. I have many miles to go before my time here is over, I think. As I look back at the major turning points along the journey; the day I left home, the day my son was born, the day I first knew I needed help with something, the day I learned the world was not about me, and more, I see them so very clearly. They are moments of deep connection with others, with the Universe, with the woman I want to be. This is one of those moments. I feel the sun shining on the values I hold closest to my heart:

Truth
Bravery
Learning
Growth
Love

I am scared sometimes. In some of these moments Jimmy gets to see me at my worst. He is kind and understanding, patient. He knows I am trying. I have some adjustments to make (you think?) and they will be fun if I let them be. If I will hold to those 5 things, the final one most of all, I will walk this journey with my head held high and my heart full of hope.

Tonight Jimmy, in his wisdom & joyful love, shared a glass of wine with me and danced me around the living room. The toast he asked me for came easily. “To the building blocks of a new life; Hope, Trust, Laughter & Love” One more dance around this strange living room in a strange country and then off to our quiet corners to process the day we both go.

My gift from Jimmy today is a journal to replace the one I mailed yesterday from Washington to my son Alex. The name of that journal was,

Satyagraha: Holding Firmly to the Truth - What I learned in 44 days on the road from San Diego to Buenos Aires & the 44 years before that

That journal was filled, page by page, with the things I think I know. It is my prayer that in it I have given my son a gift that will remind him who I am, where he comes from, the stuff he is made of, and more than any of that, how much I love him. That I will always be here with him, no matter how many miles separate us.

This new one will be filled with new information, new perspectives. It will be a place to process the new things I’m learning about the new place I’m living and the new people I am coming to know and love.

Jimmy and I both played with words today as we got used to saying things like we “live in Buenos Aires.” We walked the streets of the city, bought minutes for our phone, went to the grocery store (which we found closed) and found a couple of restaurants we’ll go back to, certainly. We made a plan for tomorrow, day 45. In 4 days I will turn 45. I know this year, as I knew last year on my birthday, will be an amazing year. I wonder if I will ever have another birthday when I do not think that....

Annie Ory Buenos Aires, Argentina
Love is all there is, nothing else is real....

THE 44TH DAY...and the Rabbit Hole

2008-07-06T18:21:00.000-07:00

Our red eye flight from DC touched down sometime around 9am this morning. The time difference from the East Coast is minimal (only 1 hour ahead of New York), however that was the easiest of the things that came with our arrival here. Over the course of the last 44 days Annie and I have gotten used to the change in scenery, the change of living quarters, the change of people. When it came down to it though, in a sense, we were always home, traveling within the country our roots have been burrowed in for so long. Where maybe we were dancing around the rabbit hole before, today I feel like we have truly fallen in.

What does it mean to wake up in a new country, a new world and simultaneously have the word 'vacation' completely absent from the definition of what we're doing. For me it is an amazingly beautiful and overwhelming idea to try to initially grasp. The pictures paints itself something like this: We step off the plane into Argentina, our new home, and the language is not our native tongue. We're in the Southern Hemisphere and suddenly we find ourselves in a winter climate, mild may it be, yet still the sun goes down now at 6pm rather than the late evening like we had been accustomed to. The setting of the sun brings a wind that holds an eye-opening bite and most likely any store or product we took comfort in the day before is now non-existent. All of our friends and family are thousands of miles away and we have no idea when we will see any of them again. Nearly every street is new and my mind holds no memory of which direction the sun will rise on us tomorrow. But it will rise. And that I take comfort in.

"Inhale. Exhale.," says the chalkboard at the restaurant we ate at this evening. We scribble it down in a notebook as if it was some great advice we must not forget, passed on not from a chalkboard hanging on a brick wall in a cafe, but rather from some wise sage whose old gray beard nearly touches the floor. Regardless of where it came from, we heed the advice along with a solid serving of patience and laughter, our two most powerful tools.

All of it makes things easier. As the day draws to an end for us here in this enormous city, I don't feel as small as I did earlier. And for a brief moment my humbleness flickers off, and I wonder if this place is big enough to hold me, and all that Annie and I want to create here together.

For as long as I can remember I've dreamt of the "rabbit hole", and wondered what it would be like to live there. I cannot begin to explain what it means that tomorrow, for the first time in my life, I will wake up there and have it be my new address.

Peace and love,
Danko in Wonderland

Currently reading:
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: A Memoir of Life in Death
by Jean-Dominique Bauby

My Farewell to America~

2008-07-05T08:46:00.000-07:00

Day 43 Washington DC, July 5th~

My mother was born on the 4th of July. When she was a little girl they had a rule in her family that no one was to tell Marie the fireworks were not for her. Last night as the fireworks lit up the sky over the capital of our nation I thought of that and for a moment it felt like they were for us. For Jimmy and I, as we leave for another country where the 4th of July is just another day.

When we went to the national art museum and the national portrait museum I thought, and said aloud, as I always do when I am in a Smithsonian National Museum, “This painting is mine. I own it.” Jimmy laughed but it’s true. All the art and historical artifacts in the national museums and archives are mine. They are yours too. We own them because we are citizens of this nation and they are national treasures. If you have never been to Washington DC this alone is reason enough to come. The feeling you have when you walk in to a National Museum and walk right past the front desk without paying a dime is very special. Even the lockers they make you put your big bags in cost a quarter to rent, but when you come back and put the key back in, it gives you your quarter back. It’s free because we own it already. We pay for it with our taxes, we pay for it when serve in the military, we pay for it when we vote. The painting we were looking at belongs to me because I am an American.

This morning Jimmy and I got up, ate breakfast and headed over to the mall to visit the Lincoln Memorial. He didn’t get to see all the things about DC that are interesting or moving but I insisted we not leave DC without his seeing this one thing. It is a gorgeous structure, commanding your attention. The sculpture of Abraham Lincoln is huge and imposing. He sits in silent meditation and I am always deeply moved by this image of the president I most respect in our nation’s history. The words carved on the walls of the memorial are powerful reminders of a president who was torn apart by the war he felt he had no choice other than to lead his nation into. Abraham Lincoln knew that war had to come. He knew that the only way to avert it was to deny the freedom and equality our nation stood for. He chose to step forward and hold true to those values. He worked hard not to judge and to simply walk a true path toward what he prayed daily would be a time of peace and healing for a nation made whole by the sacrifices of men who fought and died for those values.

As we leave America today I feel a deep sadness because we have strayed so far from the nation we once were. The president who sits in the Oval today is not a man who leads us in this war nor do I imagine he weeps for the young men who die on either side of it. Still, those values live in this nation. I know that is true because at 8:30 in the morning amidst the debris of yesterdays celebrations, around barricades, through the drizzling rain, hundreds of people walked the steps with Jimmy and I to the top of the memorial to gaze at the strong visage of the man who sacrificed all so that we could live in the warm sunshine of freedom and equality.

Think. Speak. Act. Vote.

DAY 43 - Leaving on a Jet Plane

2008-07-05T07:34:00.000-07:00

Well here we go. We leave the US today. Under a warm East Coast drizzle, we saw the fireworks bloom over the city last night. As they echoed off the quiet empty buildings and streets we stood by, I stopped and stared. Mesmerized as always by color. Afterwards we sat and ate in the rain at DC Cafe, a little hole in wall Lebanese/Syrian restaurant (amazing food). We took pause in waning wet moments of our last night here.

In a few short hours we will board a plane with a one way ticket that leaves this continent. That's a thought I haven't really been able to grasp yet. A quote by Mark Twain runs through my mind that gives me peace. "Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand." And so I leave with a smile.

Keep your eyes open for my emails, and for the "gorilla sticker". I tagged the thing every place we stopped over the course of the last 44 days. I'll keep you in the loop with how things are going for us in Buenos Aires. I've been dying to get back to painting again so as soon as I have some work and a website, I'll send them your way. Don't be a stranger.

Catch you on flip side. Take care. Take chances. Give more than you take, but don't give up.

Peace and Love,
Jimmy Danko
jimmydanko@gmail.com

Currently reading:
My plane ticket to see what gate were at.

Currently listening to:
What a Day by Greg Laswell

Current Daydream:
The next time I step foot in our country I will be walking on the soil of a nation that ceases to be at war.

SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARTISTS...

Day 41 - Washington DC - The end of the line...

2008-07-03T09:21:00.000-07:00

JULY 3RD

After 15 states, 41 days and over 5000 miles on the road, we approach our final day in the US.

A silence floats across our hotel room for me,
and a wonder permeates my thoughts.
It's 1am.
I stood outside the White House today,
and amidst hundreds of portraits at the museum.
So much to take in.
With each answer comes 5 more questions.
All the words that come to my mind seem so small.
I sit here forever changed by a drive across the country.
I glance down at my forearm and the tattoo I got at the beginning of the trip:
SATYAGRAHA
It means "holding firmly to the truth."
We leave soon and that's what feels most right to hold in my mind.
The truth.

Tomorrow = fireworks. I can't wait....

The Last Stop On The Train~

2008-07-02T20:53:00.000-07:00

July 2nd, Day 40, Philadelphia to Washington DC

Another drive brings us to our final stop before we leave the United States. Philadelphia was one of my favorite stops on our trip and it’s hard to even describe why. We didn’t do that much but my experience of the city was rich and warm. My friend Harvey lives there with his partner Kevin and their son Evan. After a long hot drive from Boston we had iced water on the cooling roof of their brownstone and watched Evan play way past his bedtime.

The next morning Jimmy and I walked around the city for a while. We stopped to see the Liberty Bell, which we now refer to as “The Broke Assed Bell That Probably Didn’t Even Ring On Any Special Days Because It Broke Coming Over From England & The Tower They Kept It In Was Falling Down On Independence Day”. We saw it nonetheless. We walked until we got tired and then rented bikes and rode around the city. We rode over the Benjamin Franklin Bridge into New Jersey. We ate Philly Cheesesteaks with fried onions and Cheese Whiz on them, and onion rings, for lunch. We had dinner at a great sushi place.

Yesterday we left our apartment in Olde City and while Jimmy rode around taking photographs of the amazing, well, old city, I rode over to the oldest Bikram yoga studio on the East Coast. It smells like the oldest studio. Really. It also has great teachers and I had a great yoga class. We had lunch and hung out and rested until it was time to go to dinner, at the same sushi place, with Harvey and his boys. We talked, walked down the street for ice cream and a martini later were asleep in our loft.

This morning we got up early and packed and on the way out of town stopped at the Philadelphia Art Museum. I saw some amazing things and enjoyed looking at art with my favorite artist. We hit the road in time to make DC for sushi (I’m noticing a trend here;)~ and are now settling in to our last hotel.

Tomorrow we’ll head out to explore the Capitol of the country we are leaving and likely have dinner with another friend. Maybe we’ll venture out for something besides sushi;)~ As we settle in to this final stop I find myself antsy. It is a nervous energy that leaves me tossing in bed and dreaming of days to come in another place. I have to remind myself to stay here in this moment. We have some adventures left to have here before the grand adventure of a new life in a new country begins.

Day 38 - Waking up in Philly

2008-06-30T06:42:00.000-07:00

Across Massachusetts, over New York and the GW Bridge, through the rain of the New Jersey Turnpike and finally rolling into the one-way cobblestone streets of the Old City District of Philadelphia.

Despite how many times we done it, it's still a trip for me to wake up in one state and fall asleep in another. On the nights when I fall into a really deep sleep, I wake up not knowing where I am the next day. Any time I get relatively close to getting used to a place, it's time to repack the car, throw the keys in the ignition and drive till the sun starts to fall on the horizon.

This morning we ate breakfast at an old diner just around the corner from us called Snow White. From one city to the next the diners all seem to be the same. The same motherly waitresses. The same stern expressionless cooks. The same greasy eggs and bacon. The one thing that's always different from city to city though is what hangs on the walls. In Hollywood it was autographed photos of actors. In Vegas it was pictures of the Strip. New York, the skyline and Brooklyn Bridge. Here it's Washington crossing the Delaware and Betsy Ross sewing the American Flag.

It's day 38 and the end of this trip is nearing, or is it the beginning that nears. In either case we only have 6 days left on this roadtrip. I try to grasp what this trip has meant, but last night I realized that it may be years before I can fully understand its magnitude on my life, so I drift back into the moment. Ah yes, Philly.

Day 37 - Boston to Philadelphia

2008-06-29T20:25:00.000-07:00

Boston was a nice rest for me. We arrived at my friend Lina’s home in Winchester and she enveloped us in the warm quietude of her world. She provided us with maps, directions, wine, a comfortable bed, good music, wholesome food, fresh cream for my coffee, fresh flowers in the kitchen, space to unwind, a place for my stuff, my first book on tape (which I’ll start listening to on the way to Buenos Aires in just a few days), a trip to the museum for Jimmy, a referral to a good hair-dresser for me, a bike to ride around the lake nearby, open spaces to spread out and clear our minds, great water pressure in the shower, a girls afternoon out, a dinner with friends, rich conversation, a view to her life, and more. Each time on our journey when we’ve stayed with friends and family, or even just eaten in their homes, it has been comforting, warm and joyful. They have opened their hearts and their homes and worked so hard to make us feel welcomed. This is a nod to the friends who’ve been our respite on our journey and the face of one more good friend who greeted us along the road to Buenos Aires.

Day 34 - Mark Twain + Gorilla = Empire

2008-06-29T07:07:00.000-07:00

On our way to Boston we stopped at the Mark Twain House, the place where Samuel Clemens spent his most prolific years as a writer.

It was great to be there and take the tour, and despite Annie's initial hesitation to support what felt wrong to do...his house (along with every other place we've stopped on the trip) now bares the mighty Gorilla Sticker. Muhahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Day 34 - The Connecticut I Remember

2008-06-26T20:14:00.000-07:00

We left Connecticut yesterday. It was my first time visiting the state, and a time I won't soon forget. Unlike New York, we didn't go to any crazy parties, or walk through any world renowned museums, but my time there I will hold with me just same.

----CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE---

I'll remember:

- drawing an "battle map" with Sophie (9) and Graham (8).
- making a new friend in a 90lb rotty named Hobbs.
- laughing as Graham stuffed his face with chicken fingers and fries.

- kayaking with Annie in a quiet harbor of Long Island Sound.
- meeting and touring the studio of the sculptor Robert Taplin.
- discovering how every restaurant in Milford, CT seemed to be named after me.
- Jeffrey's amazing carpentry and woodwork.
- Jeffrey sucking spilled wine off the table with a straw during dinner at the only restaurant in Milford not named after me.

- remembering how wonderful it is to go for a walk at dusk.
- hanging out with a 9 year old girl Sophie who was about to move with her parents from Montreal, Canada to Barbados.
- marveling at how she was only nine and already spoke two languages, was moving to another country, and seemed to be taking it all completely in stride (impressive).
- walking quietly through the past with Annie and her dear friends.
- being welcomed into the house of two strong, amazing and enlightening people, Jeffrey and Julia Carter.

Currently Listening To:
The rain against the patio doors.

Currently Reading:
A map of Winchester, Massachusetts

Current Daydream:
Planet of the Apes was based off of a true story.

On The Road Again...

2008-06-25T21:01:00.000-07:00

Day 33, Milford CT, June 25th

Another stop on the trip nears it’s necessary end. As we prepare for a final dinner here in Milford with Graham’s family I find myself feeling many things. I am joyful and satisfied to have made this time here with these lovely people to whom I will be forever connected in ways I could never really explain. I am sad to be leaving. I am excited for the next place and the next adventure. I am feeling more and more every day the urge to be in Buenos Aires and to begin building our new life there. I am filled with a sense of gratitude for this, and every, experience we’ve had on our journey.

I know that traveling with someone is a test in many people’s minds that will let you know if your relationship can survive. I have traveled a long way with Jimmy and we have had so many experiences, just in these 33 days, not to mention the ones we traversed before we sent our things off in a cargo container bound for South America. No list necessary, if you’ve been reading you’ve had a small taste of the things we’ve encountered on the road. We couldn’t begin to write them all, we’d have no time left to actually experience them. It occurs to me now that I never had any doubts about him, if I had, I wouldn’t have chosen to make this journey, and the one that comes after it, and after that, with him. Still, our way of being with one another has become more and more clearly right as we’ve shared this road. Our time here together in Milford with Graham’s family has shown me once again that I have chosen a partner I can share my life with completely. As we leave here tomorrow morning, say goodbye to Jeff and Julie and LG, I will do so with a feeling of warm connection in large part because of the way Jimmy has found a place with them that works for us all. I am grateful to the Universe, trusting that whatever comes next may not always be fun, but it wont ever be boring (and it will be more fun more of the time than I’ve ever had, ever!). The last few days have been fun and easy, I am starting to get used to that....

DAY 30 - The Last Day in NY

2008-06-24T08:54:00.000-07:00

JOURNAL ENTRY
6-22-2008 5:45pm - Sitting inside Sugar Sweet Sunshine Bakery

We've been walking around hitting galleries all day. We started in Soho, made our way to the Bowery Art Museum and are now sitting in a bakery/coffee shop on the Lower East Side. I have an urge to shave a mohawk on my head and paint until the sun comes up. That might have something to do with the caffeine latte I just downed though. Rain drips from the awning as it pours outside the window I sit next to. The sun shines through though and somewhere out there there's a rainbow arcing over the city. NYC makes me long for Buenos Aires, another huge city. So alive. So much input. When we leave tomorrow, I know a part of me will be left behind, waiting for my return, waiting for my mind to dance in the rain here once again, just like San Francisco...

Ironically the t-shirt I wore this day says
"Hi, How Are You?"

Sidenote to Day 30:
When I woke up the morning of Day 30 I had no idea a close friend would cross my path. My friend Tony from San Diego just happened to be in NY visiting his sister, and of all places we met up in Times Square (my first time there). It was an awesome thing to have been on the road for over a month and randomly meet up with a familiar face whose history stems from thousands of miles away. When Annie snapped the picture I pumped my fist in the air. I felt like I had conquered something. I don't know exactly what but I know we won.

Little Soldiers for Little Graham....

2008-06-23T21:14:00.001-07:00

Day 31 Milford Connecticut June 23 2008

Today was a day filled with emotion for me. Our tour of the friends and family and places we’ve wanted to visit has kept my mind so occupied that I hadn’t had time to think much about this leg of the trip. Today it dawned on me that I would be seeing my late husband’s family for the first time in 5 years. There was a time when we maintained regular contact but for many reasons, which are not important for this story, we allowed ourselves to drift apart. The relationships were always there, in the closet, dusty and waiting to be taken out again. This morning as Jimmy and I prepared to come to Milford to stay for several days with Julia, Jeffrey and Graham (sister, brother in law and nephew respectively to my late husband, whose name was also Graham) I was overwhelmed with emotion. I found myself crying and thinking of the many things each tear was for: the loss of the depth of the connection we once had; the memory of my deep grief for my husband, I still miss my friend very much; the tender wound I imagine I am opening by coming here; the task at hand and all the tenderness and love I would need to bring to it...

When he was young Graham (the elder) was passed a gift from his father of a vast collection of tiny antique toy soldiers, some more than 100 years old. Their weapons and horses and bugles and maps, even panoramas and boxes that some of the sets came with when they were purchased new many decades ago, before even Graham’s father was born. The collection was very special to Graham not in part because his father died when he was very young and it was a gift to him from someone whose presence in his life was dearly missed.

When Julia and Jeffrey had a baby boy 8 years ago and named him after his uncle, Graham began almost immediately to talk about passing the precious gift to his nephew. He knew he would never have children of his own and he dearly loved his (ever so slightly;)~ older sister and her husband, he was deeply honored to have a namesake, he wanted very much to be a good uncle. Graham died when his nephew was only 2 but in those 2 years he spent hours on line researching the soldiers, their value and how best to care for them and enjoy them. He carefully stored them and restored some of them in preparation for the day when Little Graham, as the family still calls him, would be old enough to receive the gift (his uncle liked to call him LG - he was military so jokingly enjoyed using the acronym).

When Graham died 6 years ago I knew that someday it would be my task to give the gift he so wanted to give himself. As I prepared for my move to Argentina and made choices about what to take I knew the time had come. Jeffrey and I had talked about the fact that Graham was old enough. He had begun to take an interest in the small box of soldiers his parents had taken home with them from the funeral.

Little Graham knows he had an uncle whose name he carries and even though I have not been here for so many years I was greeted with a huge hug and a joyful “Hi Aunt Annie!” upon my arrival. It was lovely and I knew that the evening would be easy and joyful with this little boy. We shared a lovely dinner with the family and they welcomed Jimmy warmly. As we caught up and got acquainted and re-acquainted we eased toward the moment when LG would wait no more. He wanted his gift. He’s 8 after all.

I took only 1 of the many boxes of soldiers up from the cellar (where they'd been safely stored since arriving by truck a few weeks ago) and explained to him where they came from and how much love his uncle had felt for him in the planning of the gift. I explained along with LG’s father how delicate they were and how they must be enjoyed with care. I told him the story of how his uncle had talked about the gift and how much it meant to pass the soldiers along and create a legacy.

Graham asked me questions as only a child will about his uncle not being here to give him his gift and I answered them as best I could. We touched and talked about the soldiers for a while and he created 2 small armies with them, equal numbers for a fair fight, and then it was time for ice cream and teeth brushed and bed time. I got a kiss from a guy named Graham for the 1st time in a long time and watched him march up the stairs to bed.

As I leave for Argentina I know I can do so with a heart slightly lighter for this very meaningful task being done. Graham, my Graham, will always be a part of my heart and there are things I will always do to honor him. However, with this I have done the last thing on the “To do in case I don’t come back” list he gave me when he went overseas all those years ago. The final thing on the list that has to do with someone other than me anyway. There is one I’ll be doing every day for the rest of my life and it was his final gift to me. On that list was a request that I “be happy, whatever that looks like for you” and I work on that one every day

.

The East Coast Leg of the Tour Begins...

2008-06-23T05:33:00.000-07:00

Day 31 - We head for Connecticut

Being in New York City is always exciting but I've never had as much fun here as I did this time!
It feels like we did everything and then some.
Short on sleep and long on fun the last 3 days have been jam packed with experiences and it has been a blast to walk, eat, shop, play and do New York with my best friend.

Places we saw in 3 days and 4 nights in New York City:
Harlem
Soho
Noho
Brooklyn
Lower East Side
East Village
Midtown
Empire State Building
Museum of Modern Art
New Bowery Museum
More art galleries than I can recall
Restaurants unending
Libation night club
Times Square
Rockefeller Center

Central Park
Macy's New York
Stores Gallore
More taxis than, well, New York City
The Naked Cowboy's Wife
The East River
Pennsylvania Station
911 site
The Hudson River
More bridges than I care to list
White Party
Warsaw Club
Babeland
St. Patrick's Cathedral
An good friend of Jimmy's

Whew! I don't think I left anything out, I know I did, but I just can't recall anything else. We'll see you later Big Apple...

Day 28 & 29 - Art, Warsaw & White Party

2008-06-22T21:18:00.000-07:00

DAY 28
After grabbing a sweet soul food breakfast at M & G's near the Apollo Theater, Friday found us leaving our tiny room at the Harlem Y and parking our bags instead in Midtown. The afternoon would be spent taking in the work of the masters at MOMA. The night would find us at a music venue in Brooklyn called Warsaw. There we were fortunate enough to experience the unique music and artwork of Daniel Johnston (watch trailer).

DAY 29
Saturday night will stand as a night I will not soon forget. Somehow we found ourselves on the guest list for a White Party on the Lower East Side. I felt like a cross between a Miami druglord, a male nurse and the milk man. Interestingly, in New York, that is a recipe for an insane night.

Currently Reading:
graffiti on Lower East Side

DAY 27 - Harlem Bunk Beds

2008-06-21T17:10:00.000-07:00

We arrived in New York City Thursday night at about 9pm. It's my first time here. There's something special about the first time you roll into the city. New York. In many ways its the center of the world. The epicenter. That's an amazing and humbling thing to wrap your mind around. My attempt at doing that consisted of quietly staring out the window from the backseat of our cab, my eyes jumping from the lights, to the bridges, to the water, to the people. For some reason though it never felt too big.

The cabby dropped us off at the 135th Street Y in Harlem. This was where we would be spending our first night. The building was over 80 years old, and looked it. 1003 was our room number. The narrow cream colored halls of our floor, lit by flourescents seemed to reach our for you as we passed through them. All the room doors were a bright sky blue with the metal room numbers painted over so many times they'd be unreadable were it not for the penetrating white light.

When we finally got our beat up old dead bolt door open we discovered our room to be not much of a room. It had a dresser, 2 bunks beds and a little bit of room to walk in between them, if you turned sideways. So our first night in New York ended there. Annie took the top bunk. I took the bottom, and our luggage filled the empty space.

When the lights went out I laid on my back for a minute or two staring out our room's lone window. Shining back through the old wooden pane, was the moon nearly full. Besides wishing I was in a bed where my feet didn't hang off the end, I thought of one other thing. We had made to the Atlantic. On Day 27 it could be said we finally made it Coast to Coast.

Down to Just the Luggage~

2008-06-21T05:38:00.000-07:00

19June2008 Thursday, Day 27, bound for New York City - posted a couple of days late;)~

As we walked down the concourse today on our way toward airport security I felt something new letting go. Jimmy’s parents drove us to the airport because they also bought our last remaining vehicle. During our stay in Milwaukee I received news from the property manager we hired that our condo in San Diego is now happily occupied by people we will never meet and who loved our color choices. Each month there will be a check for the balance between what they pay and what it costs to maintain. Funny, I don’t even know what they are paying for rent. I hear they are nice.

I said to Jimmy as we stood in the security line, “We only have luggage now. No cars, no jobs, no house, just luggage.” Jimmy answered that likely we’ll get used to it quickly. We seem to adjust pretty quickly to each new change.

We got a great head’s up from Jimmy’s sister Anne Marie. She lived in France for a time when she worked for EuroDisney. She said that it took everyone who moved there about 6 weeks to adjust. During that first 6 weeks emotions run high and clarity is less common than confusion, is how I interpreted what she wrote. No matter how well, or at all, you speak the language, it takes time to adjust and then it is done. I'm looking forward to everything, but mostly to being in Argentina and building our life there, our business, our community.

For now I find myself adjusting more and more to being a part of a new family. Jimmy has known my son and his girlfriend Jasmine for a while now and he met my mom and sister weeks ago. This week has been the week I was welcomed into his family, embraced by his friends, begun to find a place for myself there. Little enough time to even meet everyone, though we didn’t miss many, I will have time to deepen these relationships by mail, email and Skype.

For now we are on to the next stop. Our East Coast leg of the tour begins in earnest tomorrow in New York with a trip to MOMA and breakfast at the Harlem YMCA.

DAY 27 - Milwaukee to NY & Zero Keys

2008-06-20T21:50:00.000-07:00

JOURNAL ENTRY - 6-19-2008 - Day 27 --- On the plane to New York

As of today we no longer have a single key for anything. Our last key, the one for my car, was handed over to my parents along with the title this afternoon.

From my belt loop now hangs an empty carabiner. I leave it clipped there, a reminder to myself of a freedom that I have not known for a long time. We have no home and we have no vehicle - just a few suitcases, our laptops and my guitar.

It was somewhat eerie as we checked in at the airport today knowing these bags were all that materially represented us now. There's nowhere to go back to. No car sitting in a distant, treeless airport parking lot. Instead our path meanders only forward.

Wisconsin seemed a fitting place to leave my last key, the place where it all started. Here in a small stone house, on a wooded lot that in my memory was always surrounded by corn fields. I came into the world here with no keys and now, even if only for a while, I feel like I have returned to that simpler state of mind, falling in sense off "the grid".

Stereotypically I think of a hometown as a place to rest, but that was nowhere near the case for us with all the friends and family that shared their time with us. So we're headed to New York to relax. Or something like that. As Annie would say "You can rest when you are dead", and thus far, as a motto, that has served us well.

To all those we leave behind in Wisconsin I send you much love and thank you for all the support and well wishes you send us off with. It was good to be home.

Peace,
Jimmy

Currently Listening To:
Michael Franti & Spearhead

Currently Reading:
The 737 safety card in the seat pocket in front of me.

Current Daydream:
A world where robots and apes cohabitate.

Milwaukee, the land of the Dankos....

2008-06-17T20:57:00.000-07:00

17June2008

Milwaukee has been filled with people for me. The miles of farms and forests gave way to a beautiful city full of people full of love for Jimmy and full of curiosity about me. Day after day, meal after meal, we are welcomed into their homes and hearts as we tell the story of our decision to move to Buenos Aires once again.

As I make it through each day I often don’t even have time to process what I’ve seen, who I’ve met, and then it’s morning and time to go again. My processor is full right now and I know that our flight to New York will be a thoughtful one for me. Our host, Dawn, one of Jimmy’s dearest friends, has made a quiet and relaxed space for us to settle at the end of each busy day. Jimmy makes time at the end of each day to process what has happened but I find that sleep takes precedence for me...

I find no time to write and no time for reflection and so I offer these photos as a window into the experience I have been having in the place and with the people who nurtured the man who walks with me...

This photo spread doesn't represent even half of the family and friends I've met. Don't pity me my visiting schedule too much though, Jimmy has made sure I don't miss the really important things about Milwaukee, cheese curds (round bits of cheese that squeak in your mouth when you bite them, sausages, cheeses of all kinds, ham sandwiches that are nothing like the ham sandwiches we ate in the South, German potato salad and Frozen custard from Leon's, a Milwaukee must have....

Day 24 - Father's Day

2008-06-15T22:13:00.000-07:00

Click to enlarge below images...

Day 20 Revisited

2008-06-13T14:06:00.000-07:00

JOURNAL ENTRY FROM TWO DAYS AGO (Day 20):
[Click on images to enlarge]

We have been absent of internet for the last three days. We spent the night of Day 17 in the Alexander Mansion, a wonderful bed and breakfast located in Winona, Minnesota on the Mississippi River. Staying at a place that was built in 1880 and looked like it was out of the movie Clue was a welcomed break from the highway hotel scene.

Neither of us slept in very late on the morning of Day 18 because we both knew that the following day we would finally cross the Mississippi River into Wisconsin, and after a couple hours of driving Annie would, for the first time ever, get to meet some of my relatives, my Auntie Barb and Uncle David.

She was nervous. Of course me saying "Holy crap, I can't believe you're actually gonna meet another Danko today" probably didn't help much. So I kept saying it, while simultaneously beating on invisible kettle drums similar to when Sauron's Orc army marched in Lord of the Rings.

As I knew it would though, everything went well and was free or Orc darkness. We arrived at their secluded country house in mid-afternoon. When we crossed The River into WI the first thing I did was buy $25 worth of fireworks, so when we got to the beginning of their 100 yard gravel driveway, I stepped out of the car and lit few of bottle rockets off to let them know we had arrived. From that point on we were well taken care of.

Highlights of our stay in Gilman, WI:
1. Going four wheelin'.
2. Using a 223 Mossberg hunting rifle to shoot spray paint cans, old hubcaps, license plates, and a truck cap on which I spray painted a giant blue target and the word FREEDOM (laughs).
3. Lighting off more fireworks.
4. Tuesday morning Annie made fresh buttermilk biscuits.
5. Throughout our stay on their property we saw: deer, sandhill cranes, wild turkey
(the bird and the whiskey), a wolf, a bald eagle and a ton of cows.
6. Eating venison sandwiches, venison sausage, rabbit stew, pheasant alfredo - all made with wild game they had caught.
7. Tuesday night we drank, watched historical documentaries on public television and talked history.
8. Being away from civilization.
9. Seeing a chainsaw graveyard.
10. Eating "squeaky" cheese curds.
11. Wrestling with a black lab named Hollis Jackson.
12. Annie survived the inaugural meeting of my relatives.
13. My Uncle holding this sign he so proudly stole from the neighbors.

Today we head down to Milwaukee and ever deeper into the Land of the Dank...Muhahahahahahahahahahaaha!!!

Gillman Wisconsin at Jimmy’s Uncle Dave and Aunt Barb’s house

2008-06-13T08:02:00.001-07:00

Gillman Wisconsin at Jimmy’s Uncle Dave and Aunt Barb’s house

The rain is falling again outside and it is cold and windy here. The heater is on in mid-June and I’m wearing a fleece jacket inside. There is thunder and lightening and that is a novelty for me now, though I knew these things once. When I look at how beautiful it is here outside, so green and thick with trees and grasses and all sorts of vegetation, I have to remember what they go through to get that. I told Jimmy to remind me why we don’t live here, then the mosquitos did it for him. Hot and humid and buggy in the summer and freezing cold and covered with snow in the winter. It occurs to me that I have never been outside in below zero weather, ever. I don’t think below 20 degrees. I’ve rarely seen snow. I think it is likely too late for me to adapt to weather like they have here, as beautiful as it is.

Watching Jimmy with his family has been great fun. He is different with them. Still Jimmy, but differently. It occurs to me as I watch the changes that I’m different around other people too. I wonder how? How am I different with my mom, with my friends, with strangers...?

I think I miss some of those parts of me when I don’t get to be with certain people. I am working to keep those people with me energetically, the people who bring out the best parts of me. I am always me, and, there are parts of me that I enjoy more than others and that fit more with my choices about who I want to be in the world. Some people, Jimmy for sure, and other people too, bring that out in me in unique ways. Something about that person taps in to something really important to me and lights it up. Then, when I’m with them I feel more connected to that part of me. I like that and want more of it so I want to be with this person more. The trick is, how to hold them, and that part of me, close to me when they are not physically near. As I leave my friends and family behind to head further and further into this adventure it is a skill I hope to practice often.

On our way to Milwaukee, we stopped at the Ory farm in central Wisconsin. We didn't know they'd be here. Jimmy's Aunt Barb found them while she was out camping. The name Ory is unique to my family so if you carry that name we are related. We made a connection and headed on. This morning we go to meet Jimmy’s parents and I get to meet Jimmy again, with another new aspect of him. This should be good...

Day 17 - Rain, The River and Giant Broccoli

2008-06-08T21:49:00.000-07:00

Our day started in Des Moines, Iowa with pouring rain. The kind of rain where the sky turns green and the drops are the size of grapes. "BEEP BEEP BEEP - THUNDERSTORM WARNING", says the weather channel across the bottom of the tv screen in the hotel lobby...just like ol' times I thought to myself.

I was hoping we'd hit a nice solid midwest thunderstorm at some point on our trip, and today we did. It rained nearly all day, and from what we saw, it was the last thing Iowa needed. We passed flooded fields and tornado torn trees. We found the underwater playground pictured above in Dyersville, near the Field of Dreams.

Water would continue to be the main theme of the day as we rolled up to the Mississippi. The countryside would change though. Fields were exchanged for rolling riverside forests. We got off the interstate and followed the back roads North. Instead of cookie cutter highway stops, we drove 25 mph through little river towns enriched with character from the mighty (and now swollen) river.

It was a drive of drives. Everything was a deep lush green, like driving through rolling Jolly Green Giant broccoli groves. Rain machine-gunned the top of the car. Lightning strobed the late afternoon sky. The windshield wipers were on high. And we were at complete peace, following the western bank north, with Johnny Cash singing of ghost riders on the stereo.

The Mighty Mississippi

2008-06-08T21:47:00.000-07:00

The Mighty Mississippi

Morning comes
Another hotel along the highway
The voice of a friend’s celebration with my coffee
Breakfast with a stranger’s family & bags packed skillfully
We head North East again from Iowa toward the Mississippi
Long slow roads, big gray clouds and green green everywhere
Independence Iowa and the Devil took to beating his wife again

Lost in a Field of Dreams
Grasses dancing in the wind
Giggles against the sound of thunder
Lightening strikes the sky alight with wonder
Our wheels turn and turn and turn again toward

The mighty Mississippi, not so wide, not so fast, not so dirty way up North but a mighty river still

Bridges to the other side whisper “cross here” but it’s not time to cross over yet, we will, morning will come soon

Clancy’s Supper Club warms up slowly to the sound of our song, then shares a song or two of it’s own before Lansing too fades from view

Warnings of road closures don't change the course of this train, the end of this day holds a promise of comfort and stately decadence in a well heeled old lady's embrace

Day 16 - The End of the West

2008-06-08T21:14:00.000-07:00

Fort Collins to Des Moines

The Rocky Mountains.
All of their grandeur disappears behind us.
And so begins the plains.
The Heartland.
Caution Nebraska ahead.
All of it.
Telephone poles dance like scarecrows,
and billboards sit empty.
I thought I saw a cloud,
but it was just more blue.
Big expansive blue.
We pass John Wayne's birthplace,
and every exit is 60th Street.
We keep the pedal down.
All of it.
Hours, miles and caffeine dissappears.
North Platte, Lincoln, Omaha.
It's 85 degrees,
and the wind is hot and thick
like the King Kong burgers we find.
The glorious state line.
We escape with the sun at our back,
and hours later,
say goodbye to the day in Des Moines.

Miles To Go Before We Rest...

2008-06-08T07:50:00.000-07:00

Miles To Go Before We Rest...

Today is our longest driving day of the trip, we’ll do 12 hours or thereabouts today. Many miles will pass under the wheels of the car that is carrying us closer to a dream we share of a new life in a new place. This trip, even the long hours passing through the corn fields and the cow farms and the neighborhoods, past the Starbucks’ and the Home Depots and all the little diners, past the gas stations with ever changing price signs in front, is also a celebration of the place we are leaving behind. Jimmy and I grew up in, and were nurtured by, this land and the people in it. I am struck by the presence of so many people in so many places who love us, who are interested in us, who are connected to us in one way or another. The process of deciding where to stop was one of the hardest parts of preparing for this trip. If we had stopped everywhere, to see everyone, we would have been on the road months.
Today we’ll pass near the home of my friend Deanna and we wont see her. She will feel me near though, as I hope all the friends we miss as we journey North and East will. Though we won’t see them they are as much a part of the trip as the people we’ll stop and visit with a while.

Day 15 - Fort Collins

2008-06-07T00:08:00.000-07:00

As Day 15 draws to an end, we are on the eve of the infamous never-ending trek across Nebraska. The wonderful health and environmentally conscious town Fort Collins treated us well. It gave us a place to stay and held for us love from close friends. With my bags packed and a pillow awaiting my head, the following things stand out for me during our time here:

1. Having complete strangers lend us their home to stay in.
2. Going for a walk in the rain with three of my closest friends.
3. Being around the amazing spirit and love of my old friend Patrick.
4. Seeing my dog Samson who now lives in Fort Collins with Patrick.
5. Dip cones at Dairy Queen.
6. Samson doesn't chase cars, but he chased ours when we left...

Home For a Spell...

2008-06-05T23:06:00.000-07:00

I love to travel. I know, not everyone does, but I do. I love the new places and people and I enjoy finding my way around and the excitement of it all. I manage all the details pretty well. Of course, there are things I miss. I try not to think of them too often in the moment, to focus on the fun and adventure of where I am and who I’m with. Still, coming home and doing laundry is one of the best moments of any trip.

When my friend Maggie learned we were coming to visit her in Fort Collins she created a rare opportunity for us. She found us a home to stay in. Her neighbors happen to be away the same week we are here and so they have graciously allowed us to stay in their home during their absence. We have done laundry, bought groceries (just a few) and cooked a meal at home (no waitress, no check, no drive back to the hotel). We actually got a bottle of wine and had friends over. No maid service either, which, and this is funny, can get old sometimes. To top it off Maggie made me this beautiful yoga mat bag with her own hands in honor of the journey I am taking and where it will end.

It is a gift made of love and receiving it has touched my heart in a way I can’t explain. Whenever I look at it I think of my lovely friend sitting in her house with her brow knit and a heart filled with love for me and I feel that love touch me as if I could feel the hands that made it. My friends from Leadership will recognize the logo. It is the logo of our tribe, the Buffalo. It stands for Fierce Courageous Love. Thank you Maggie. You are a fine friend.

Jimmy’s friend Patrick also lives here and I have had a wonderful time getting to know him. I enjoy watching the way Jimmy is different with different people. This man, Patrick, elicits a certain voice from Jimmy I’ve not seen before and that is a wonderful thing to watch. Jimmy’s dog Samson lives with Patrick and it was a joy to see him as well, to see the two of them together again, to walk with Samson and Patrick in the rain and see Jimmy play with them both.

We all went to a yoga class together this morning (Patrick, Jimmy and I, not Samson) and as I walked in to the studio I discovered my friend Adam from Bikram yoga teacher training is teaching here in Fort Collins. Adam and I emceed the talent show together at Yoga Camp and seeing him here, getting to take his yoga class and share a few tips and stories was heart warming. All in all, this has been the stop on the trip, for me, that has felt most like home, though I have never been to this place before.

Day 12 - Ramblings and Red Bull Count

2008-06-04T22:35:00.000-07:00

Ramblings written mostly on the road during Day 12...

Continental Divide

A salty lake,
powder sugar mountains,
and another town fades from rearview.
84 East and orange signs.
doubling fines,
and rusted water tower wines.
Red Bull, red rock,
interstate outcrop.
Interstate caffeine machine.
We race old man train East,
along his steel-track beard.
A Mad Max cowboy driving a soda pop can,
a yellow line spaceship.
Fuel and fireworks next exit.
Rest stop to ignite them one mile.
Uhaul, Wehaul, freefall.
18 wheel rubber roadkill.
Junction 80 East.
Big sky.
Roaming through Wyoming,
like driving through an empty ocean,
or giant gravel sandbox quarry.
I need another Red Bull.
Green River Rails.
Gasoline sails.
Rawlins, Laramie, Colorado state line.
Through Laporte.
Past La Poudre River.
Two old friends,
a few new ones,
and a Fort Collins fort to rest in.

REMAINING TRAVEL DATES:
Fort Collins, CO- Until June 7
Somewhere in the middle of Iowa- June 7
Winona, MN- June 8
Gilman, WI- June 9
Milwaukee, WI- June 12
NYC- June 19
Connecticut- June 23
Boston, MA- June 26
Philadelphia, PE- June 29
Washington D.C.- July 2
Buenos Aires, Argentina - July 6

Another Goodbye...

2008-06-04T09:19:00.000-07:00

As we head out of Ogden this morning bound for Fort Collins I find myself sad to leave a place for the 2nd time on our journey. Ogden is the place I have taught most of my yoga classes and the studio here is very special to me. Mike, the owner, has been a great teacher to me. I’ve learned about teaching and running a studio and he has been patient and understanding in ways most of the Bikram community has not. Bikram yoga sometimes attracts a very rigid type of person and some people use the yoga to grow more flexible in mind and body, and others don’t. I don’t fit well into rigid structures. Being here with these open people and being honored as a teacher by the students and the community has been very meaningful for me. The students here have welcomed me and what I know about the yoga and have made a special, warm place for me in their yoga practices and in their hearts. Mike has allowed me to grow as a teacher at my own pace and has given me space to make mistakes and to grow from them without ever making me feel that I wasn’t fully prepared to do the job I’ve taken on. The studio is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever been in, with a view of the mountains out the windows. Ogden is a beautiful town and finally, after all my visits, the weather has turned friendly at last. When a student here asked me if I would please stay, I told her in all seriousness that if it wasn’t so blasted cold here most of the year I would consider buying the studio, which is for sale. Still, my heart lies in another place and the changes I am seeking are bigger and farther than here in Ogden. So we go on. One of the lovely things that happened in our very short stay here in Ogden is that Jimmy took my yoga class for the first time. He has been practicing a little here and there when he found time but because I haven’t been teaching much in San Diego and he’s been working hard to prepare us for the move he hadn’t ever taken a real yoga class from me. I didn’t know he was coming last night to take my class so when he showed up with a smile on his face it put one on mine too. I loved having him in my class. He listened well and worked hard and took good care of his knee, still recovering from surgery in January. In other words, he was a perfect student. In a lovely day filled with joyful experiences that one stands out for me.

This morning before we left I “taught” my last class in Ogden Utah. Two students joined me for my silent practice and followed my body instead of my voice through their yoga practices. It was a lovely way to end my time here and it was a magical experience for all of us. When I came to Ogden first in January, looking for someplace to get some classes under my belt I never imagined how I would come to care for these people and this place. I never imagined how much I would learn and how completely they would help me to claim my place at the front of the room. I could never have imagined how much the people of this community would love me. I am deeply grateful for the place they’ve made for me. I will miss Ogden and the people I have grown to know here.

Day 11 - The Golden Sugar Coated Spike

2008-06-02T23:42:00.000-07:00

This afternoon, under the bluest sky, we visited Golden Spike National Park located in Promontory, Utah. The area is remote and largely uninhabited high country that over the great Salt Lake and resides just northwest of Ogden. 139 years ago this was the place the final spike of the Transcontinental Railroad was driven in, the Golden Spike. The place where the East met the West. A fitting place for us to stop on a cross-country trip.

Outside of being at the finishing point of one of America's seemingly impossible engineering feats, what intrigued me most was learning about some of the other less publicized truths that accompanied this daunting venture. Like how a sizable portion of the workforce was hardworking Chinese immigrants who faced extreme prejudice. Or how the projects completion meant the eventual decimation of the many herds of wild buffalo across the plains, and that in turn contributed to the displacement of the Native Americans that called those plains home. These things were but small footnotes within the park, dangerously close to being forgotten.

As we sat and ate lunch on the old railroad grade that sat docile before a grand panorama of Salt Lake and its surrounding mountains, I pondered how not only do I love to eat, but also the idea that you cannot drive across this beautiful country and hope to fully understand who it is and all the wonderful things it has to offer without acknowledging the times we have made mistakes, often at the fatal expense of a great many people. As evident in old Promontory, Utah, or present day New Orleans, the errors in our ways are interlaced within our landscape nearly as much as the triumphs, and if you ignore the first you are only seeing the abridged and sugar coated visage of what is really out there amidst the trails we walk and the roads we drive. If you ignore the first our voices become that much more muffled, and the places we're headed that much more unclear.

Day 10 - Night and Day

2008-06-02T00:59:00.000-07:00

I sit and type this tonight (early Monday morning) from a dimly lit hotel room desk in historic downtown Ogden, Utah. It's a Sunday night and the streets here are empty. Actually the streets seem to be empty everywhere in Utah on a Sunday. That is great if you're driving; bad if you are trying to find a place to eat. Interestingly, contrary to previously thought, we discovered it is actually sometimes safer to order the patty melt from a diner rather than the turkey sandwich.

We left the 90 degree weather of Vegas this morning. I'm not going to disclose anything of what ensued during the last three days there, but as Hunter S. Thompson said, "Buy the ticket. Take the Ride." And that we did.

One thing I've learned about meandering roadtrips over the years is that many times the best routes to take are those that are decided by complete strangers. For example, Maximo and Hans (yes these were their real names) were two bellhops standing outside the hotel this morning as we loaded up the car. After explaining to them our trip and our desire to get off the interstate, they guided us to Cedar Breaks National Park. Their recommendations took us on a secluded two hour excursion through a part of the country that I never knew existed and probably wouldn't have found on our own.

It felt good to get back into the mountains. Away from the electric lightning of Las Vegas and into the quiet meditation of an alpine forest.

Our drive started in the 95 degree heat of the Nevada desert and in a few short hours took us up over 10,000ft and walking amidst snow.

Annie standing at Chessmen Ridge Overlook at an elevation of 10,460ft.

Reminiscent of the Grand Canyon, this was the panorama at Cedar Breaks National Park, Utah.

One of These Things is Not Like the Other...

2008-06-01T22:56:00.000-07:00

The word of the day is:
peregrinate |ˈperigrəˌnāt|
verb [ intrans. ] archaic or humorous
travel or wander around from place to place.
DERIVATIVES
peregrination |ˌperigrəˈnā sh ən| |ˈpɛrəgrəˈneɪʃən| noun
peregrinator |-ˌnātər| |ˈpɛrəgrəˈneɪdər| noun
ORIGIN late 16th cent.: from Latin peregrinat- ‘traveled abroad,’ from the verb peregrinari, from peregrinus ‘foreign, traveling.’

We are peregrinators! Peregrination is what we are doing. Traveling from place to place. Wandering. I like the word wander better than travel. From now on I’m calling it that. Wandering is better than traveling, which in itself is better than being a tourist. I’ve been told that by old travelers, that being a traveler is better than being a tourist. I wonder if they knew about the wandering thing but didn’t think I was ready?

Since my last entry we arrived in and left Las Vegas. I won’t say much about what we did, because “What happens in Vegas, blah, blah, blah,...” It’s some kind of rule. Who am I to break it? I did teach a yoga class there, Bikram yoga is hot in Vegas (Tee hee! Hot, get it?Hot? Oh never mind). They like having visiting teachers at the studio. It was a good class. I didn’t do so well in my practice though because I was operating on 4 hours of sleep. I’ll let Jimmy explain that one. He may also adhere to the above rule though so don’t count on much information.

What strikes me about leaving Las Vegas today, as I sit in a quiet room in Odgen Utah on a peaceful street in Old Town near Union Station, is the contrasts. We stayed at the MGM Grand in Vegas and had a view of the strip. When I went downstairs to get coffee at 8:30 this morning there were girls in club wear still coming in from the night. The noise is never ending, it’s never dark or quiet or peaceful or still. It is so big you could lose yourself there. I know many people have. I never stay long enough to lose myself. That is likely why some people go though, so they don’t have to hear the quiet any more and know themselves in it. I take Vegas for what it is, a quick party stop. Since I don’t party much, I don’t last long there. Three nights was enough. With the best of intentions I didn’t write a word the entire time we were there, or take a single photograph come to think of it. Something about Las Vegas is not conducive to inner reflection. I don’t dislike Vegas, but I don’t really care much for it either. I’m glad Jimmy got to see it, if you haven’t ever been to Las Vegas it is a stop not to be missed. I’m also glad it’s checked off the list because I could easily not go again for many years, or, ever. There are so many places to see in the world.

We drove straight out of there this morning into some of the prettiest, quietest country I’ve seen. We drove miles sometimes without seeing another car and could stand and look at the beautiful scenery without hearing anyone’s voice. Mountains and valleys and big, big skies. Trees for miles and a strong landscape made of bedrock that sometimes would make a stand by the roadside, shoved up from the ground, just you know what you’re standing on. We ate a late lunch/early dinner at Ashelle’s Family Diner in Beaver Utah. Comfort food, my mom would call it. An Alarm went off at the business across the street and the whole place was abuzz with excitement over the sheriff coming. Quiet was just another contrast to the place we had just come from. In Vegas nobody even looks up from the paper if an alarm goes off. It’s just another loud noise in a sea of loud noises.

As we settle to one of our many hotel rooms tonight there are some constants that don’t contrast at all and show up in each room so no matter where I wake up I know where I am:

The sound of Jimmy typing as I drift off to sleep
My pink Nalgene water bottle next to the bed
A picture of my son in a journal I carry
My iPod playing Patti Griffin songs to calm me after a long day
Jimmy’s guitar by the bed, ready for my lullaby
My toothbrush and night guard - I know, but that's how I settle in to sleep...

These small things make me feel at home in every strange place we sleep and I find myself wondering if, by the time we arrive in Argentina, settling in to a new country might not be a breeze compared to our whirlwind tour of North America. Maybe I’m just a gypsy at heart. After all, I am my mother’s daughter and she never stayed in one place very long....

Get Out of Town...

2008-05-30T11:14:00.000-07:00

I look back at the last week and it seems a blur, images and sounds flashing in my mind. That I wake up in the same place I go to sleep seems the one thing I can count on. That, and that whatever we do it will be fun and playful. It’s funny because we planned the trip to be leisurely and it doesn’t feel that way. Already the day in San Francisco when, to quote Jimmy, we had “a rare pile of clean laundry, and a home cooked dinner with close friends” seems so long ago. I am trying to figure out when we’ll next have the opportunity to wash clothes or eat in a home. Fort Collins Colorado, where we each have friends, seems very long away, yet with the pace we are keeping I know we will be there in no time at all. Don’t misunderstand, it’s a good whirlwind. We are laughing our way across the country and taking each moment for what is available. When a choice is presented and we find ourselves choosing between “getting there” and having the experience of getting there, we pick the experience. A lot of our planned stops are for just that, the experience. Thus we find ourselves on the Las Vegas Strip staying at the MGM Grand and paying 3 times as much for everything.

There is an energy in Vegas that is different from everywhere else in the world. Like the many climates and landscapes we’ve passed through so far, Vegas has it’s own special feel and, like it or not, it is an experience not to be missed. Being here brings to mind how many years I’ve passed in this part of the world. Not too many hours from San Diego by car, I have visited Las Vegas many times. I still remember the Vegas where a fully stocked breakfast buffet bar was $1.99. Now my coffee from Starbuck’s, usually $1.96 is $4.37! It is by far one of the most expensive places on our itinerary. I am excited to see it through Jimmy’s eyes, and, if I never stopped here again I wouldn’t be missing anything much.

On our way here yesterday we stopped in a place called Tonopah in the middle of the Nevada desert.We started the day in Reno, just an overnight. Tonopah was a very small community with lots of farmers, truckers and people who serve the highway. A big hotel and truck stop were there in case, headed to Vegas, you found yourself in Tonopah too tired or hungry to go on. It is the sort of place where you choose the “safe” menu items, simple food, hard to ruin.

Christopher served us our burgers and as I watched him move around the restaurant it occurred to me what a contrast his situation is to mine in this moment. He was a smart, nice looking, polite young man and I saw the tracks his life could take: Marry a local girl, have babies and live in this tiny place with this singular experience forever, or, GET OUT! I decided to offer a rare piece of advice to a stranger and I suggested the latter. I know it is only my opinion that a life in Tonopah is not a life to cherish, but that’s all advice is anyway, the sharing of an opinion. From the perspective I hold right now, having lived so many years and on my way to a new place, it seemed like good advice. I left Tonopah with a picture in my mind of Christopher packing his things into a rusty old car, headed out of Tonopah into the world to have a grand adventure. On our way out of town as we passed by this place I thought, “I hope he goes....”

DAY 7 - Shoe toss between Reno and Vegas

2008-05-30T10:30:00.000-07:00

There wasn't anything in particular we wanted to do in Reno, so we didn't do anything to speak of. It was more or less just a pit stop. We did stroll through the smoky casino of our hotel, but other than the stiff, haggard old patrons that were crusted to the slot machines and drink carts, there was little that sparked my curiosity.

95 South
Highways like 95 south, from Reno to Vegas, bequeath some of the reasons I love exploring the forgotten byways of the Southwest. There are no Starbuck's. There are no Holiday Inns. Just maybe a shithole diner and a place to get gas if you're lucky. In the absence or Corporate America you are gifted instead with an endless expanse of deserts and sun-baked mountains. Every 40 miles or so brings another ghost town with petrified store fronts and pickup trucks frozen in rust. 85 miles an hour on a one lane road that if you drive all day you might get somewhere. You see things that are so odd they make you look twice. Rocks for sale. Plane wreckage at the entrance to a brothel. Rain followed by a rainbow. An old yacht turned into a roadside house. A dead tree kept alive by shoes. The drive we did yesterday was one where every Tom Waits song that played on the stereo seemed to make that much more sense to me then they did the day before.

Just before 10pm we rolled into Sin City. I don't know all that we're gonna do here, but I'm gonna do my best to get in some trouble and play it off like it was all Annie's fault. Peace from the road.

Jimmy
(In the retired army/truck stop town of Hawthorne, Nevada, I ate my first McDonald's cheeseburger of our cross-country drive. For some reason it feels little more like a roadtrip now.)

Day 6 - Leaving California

2008-05-30T00:52:00.000-07:00

Wednesday we bid San Francisco farewell as we crossed over the giant concrete-steel mass of the Bay Bridge. We hummed past the rolling hills Northeast of Oakland until we found ourselves at the doorstep of the Sierras. I don't think that either of us were really aware of what about to happen as we headed into the mountains. At one point I looked over and Annie and said, "We're not in California anymore."

I knew all along that day six would have us leaving the state but I never really gave it much thought. For the first time on our trip our license plates told those who saw them that we were away from home. For me, it was the first time on this cross-country trip where I really felt like our bones were headed east. I think the realization of these things gave us both pause for a few minutes. I have often used the word "surreal" to describe the idea of this trip to people before it started, and for the first five days that's pretty much how it felt. But when we were no longer in our home state, when our car starting saying we were from "somewhere else", and when it really started to feel like we were leaving home, the one-way drive we were on became that much more real.

For me, the panorama that surrounded us kept the heaviness of those thoughts from hanging around too long. We had decided to get off the jet stream of the interstate and wondered down along the northern shore of Lake Tahoe. It felt good to breathe the clean mountain air as we wove our way through the wooded highway. The clouds were bold and damp. "Even when its gray here its beautiful," I recall Annie saying as the car climbed above 7000 ft. We were driving amidst rocky, snow-capped mountain tops. The air was cold, crisp and thin enough to explode one of my favorite pens. "Man down" I proclaimed as I retired the mighty black pen and wiped its black inky blood from my fingers. The first casualty of the trip. Thankfully I had stolen plentiful amount of pens from work so there were others ready to carry on the written battle.

It wasn't long before we were zipping and twisting down Hwy 431 on the Eastern side of the Mount Rose Wilderness. The snow faded from view and we escaped the shadow of the Carson Mountain Range just in time to roll into town in the pinkish-orange light of the setting sun. We had beaten the night to Reno.

Farther From Familiar

2008-05-28T10:36:00.001-07:00

As we move further and further from the life I have known, I find myself feeling more deeply into the relationships that are now my anchor. I am anchored, of course, inside myself to the person I am, to my beliefs and my values, to my understanding of the Universe and my place in it. That is good. I am also deeply anchored to my people. As I move away from the physical place my life has been grounded to I feel the energy of my relationships so much more. Jimmy is my main connection, constant and steady he is there when I feel uncertain and need to reach out and touch something solid and unmoving. (He will laugh when he reads that description of himself but it’s true..).

I find myself taking great care of all of these connections. I reach out to friends and family and make sure they know how I feel about them. I let solid steady Jimmy be there for me and try to be careful not to ask too much, not to forget I can steady myself too. I hear my phone ring, it’s Erica, it’s Wendi, it’s Maggie... I have a long conversation about change and stuck-ness with my friend John whose house will be our last US stop on this journey. As I nurture these connections I am aware that as my life changes the way I stay connected with these people will also change. I will add to this list as I build community in the new place we are going. The physical world I live in will no longer feel familiar but the sound of a voice I know will always be something I can lean in to remember that life is a single moment that follows millions of other moments and precedes millions more. That constancy, that flow, and feeling my place in it is comforting to me right now.

As we pass through each place Jimmy asks me if I have ever been there before, he tells me whether he has or if it is “the first time ever in my (his) whole life”. (in spite of the simple truth of that statement it never fails to send me into a fit of giggles). While sometimes my answer is “yes, I have been here before” even so it is not familiar to me because I have not been in this place on this day with this man before so the moment is new to me. For example, I have never before “in my whole life” been through this straw maze on the coast of Northern California with this man on this journey....

Day 5 - San Francisco

2008-05-27T23:55:00.000-07:00

As each of these days go by I try not to look to far ahead and just stay in the moment - stay in the day. With all that lies ahead, it is easy to get caught up in all that we are going to do. I think its the difference between me becoming part of the day, and the day becoming part of me. In other words...

Today,
I was weights in an early morning workout,
and the packed markets of mid-day Chinatown.
I was a rented bike in North Beach,
and an enormous steel cable on the Golden Gate Bridge.
I was a Buena Vista Irish Coffee with Annie,
and a taxi ride with a New Zealand cabbie.
I was a rare pile of clean laundry,
and a home cooked dinner with close friends.
I was the twilight horizon seen from Coit Tower,
and the clacking of empty streetcar tracks.
Tonight I am the streets of San Francisco,
and the cold homeless wind.
I am the approaching end of Day 5,
and directions to Reno.

Play a song for me, I'll stay awake a few minutes longer...

2008-05-26T12:12:00.002-07:00

26May2008 Monterey California

We talked about rest days this morning as we walked along the coast. There is so much to do and even with 44 days of journey, not time enough to do it all. We want to see everything, touch everything, experience EVERYTHING - and everyone. Of course we will have to make choices. This conversation took place on the way to breakfast. We were both very hungry but wanting to see the beach, touch it, walk on it, photograph it. I have traveled all over the world and all over the United States and the beach on Monterey Bay is by far the most beautiful and vibrant beach I have ever seen. Walking down to touch the tide pools I had to plan each step carefully to be sure not to step on any living creatures. If my toe touched one they would let me know I had over stepped by cringing. Ouch! In spite of mass tourism and an administration bent on ecological destruction it captivates me that there can be so much life in a single small spot of the planet that I must stand on my tip toes not to crush some living being. This is rare on our planet and I took a moment to breathe it in.

Jimmy and I both tend to engage people in conversation and the stories, ours and theirs, begin to unfold. Before long dinner is over and it’s 9pm and Jimmy hasn’t had his walk on the shore and I haven’t written in my journal and there are things I still want to do but, up since 6 and cramming experiences in to every moment, my body would not cooperate any longer. Riding on coffee and practiced at napping and working late into the night (from years of holding a “second job” as an artist) Jimmy lasted a few hours longer than I did last night. When I am sleeping I rest well. Mentally exhausted I don’t recall my dreams which must be so entertaining! I am pacing myself as we begin this long journey. Like a marathon I have to be careful not to run too fast. I want to last the distance. You can all help. I am an extrovert and I am fueled by contact with humans (sort of like a vampire without the hickey). You aren’t intruding. Write to me. Call me. Let me know I am in your hearts and minds and I will be energized by knowing you are with me on this adventure.

We started yesterday in Los Angeles, one more kissy-huggy goodbye with my mom and sister and then on to breakfast at one of our mutual favorites. The relationship with my sister has not been easy these many years. Somehow when someone leaves it makes it so much easier to set aside old hurts and embrace them. Perhaps because we know we may not get another chance. Perhaps because it is easier to not reopen the wound when contact is minimal. Either way, it was good to see my little sister turn the corners of her mouth up when she looked at me, after so many years without seeing her eyes twinkle for me. On the road by 9 and headed up the coast we passed through so many different landscapes yesterday that in hindsight it is all a blur. Thank goodness for photographs that bring back the moments and allow me to recall what made me so exhausted at the end of the day.

I have a journal, hard not electronic, that I am keeping on this journey. It has a very special purpose (to be revealed at a later date). Yesterday I wrote that it is important to take time, even when I’m tired, to experience the moments that I am walking through with Jimmy on this trip. This moment will be available just this once. Some famous person once said, “You can rest when you’re dead” (May West?) and so I will hold to that as we move through these crazy days. I will have time later for that coffee, that nap, that time when nothing is being asked of me and I have grown capable of settling in to those moments. I have lived enough years to know that the Universe can suddenly remove the option of special moments with a certain person and I have learned to embrace the experience, not in a fearful way, but in a way that honors the beauty of what is here today and may not be tomorrow. It is almost noon and very soon we’ll head up the coast to San Francisco. We’ll spend 2 days there visiting friends and experiencing a city we both love but have not seen through each other’s eyes. Some of the best Bikram yoga studios in the country are there and I will want to take classes and even try to teach a class or two there. With the speed at which our lives have been moving this year, Jimmy has never taken a yoga class from me. I wonder on some days if that wont happen until our studio opens in Buenos Aires. I have never seen him paint. We are traveling together on a journey toward building a new life, a new community, out of a business that will allow us both to do something we very much care about, two different ways of expressing ourselves to the world in one place. I am so excited about watching that unfold. I can hardly wait to write that story. But wait... I get ahead of myself. I still have this day to move through...

Day 3 - L.A. to Monterey

2008-05-25T23:42:00.000-07:00

Annie at Pfeiffer State Beach. She was a soldier today as both a driver, navigator and friend.

Panorama of Bixby Bridge on Hwy 1

The Pacific...where westbound highways go to die.

Less than 10 minutes after being in the motel room, I realized that if climbed on top of a few pieces of furniture I could monkey it up into this empty loft space of our room.

DAY 3

Our day started with breakfast Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles in Hollywood and ended with the sunset in Monteray. Today would be one of our longest driving day so far - 8 plus hours. Outside of the L.A. swat teams that had shutdown the 101 North just before Ventura, traffic flowed pretty smoothly for us today. Ironically, I didn't think there was anything strange about leaving Los Angeles under those circumstances. It just felt right.

After a quick bite to eat at the Downtown Brewing Company (a sweet-ass music venue with awesome food) in San Luis Obispo, we made our way onto Hwy 1. There are few words I can say that will do the stretch of road from San Luis Obispo up to Monterey justice. Kerouac, Jeffers, and Steinbeck had pens that knew it well. Ansel Adams and Edward Weston brought their cameras here to rest. All I know is that if there is a more beautiful drive in the United States it has yet to grace my eyes.

What intrigues me about the road is the vast quantity of lessons it can bring you from people you meet and places you experience. And if you're really fortunate, once awhile in your life you get to have one of your teachers sitting in the car next to you as you do it. I don't know how but somehow I was dealt five aces today. It's 2 in the morning so I'm gonna quit while I'm still ahead.

I leave you with this postcard I made for a few friends 4 years ago on my first, and only other jaunt, up this stretch of coast. As I read the words now I guess that maybe some things never change...

Peace and much love from the road.
Jimmy

Restless - 11/19/2004

The last 2 months my soul has become increasingly restless.
It keeps me up late at night,
and wakes me early in the morning.
It makes me drive till I know not where I am anymore,
To where my surroundings cannot define me,
To where I am forced to attempt to define myself.
Slowly I find fragments of what I search for.
I find it in long hours behind the wheel of my car,
And daily commutes on the pedals of my bike.
I find it on winding alpine trails,
And before towering granite faces.
I find it in the twist of my camera’s lens,
And the turning pages of sun dried books.
I find it in the wisdom of an old hitchhiker,
And the pessimism of a close friend.
I find it in the pounding thunder of crashing waves,
And the crisp silence of a mountain meadow night.
Yet despite all that I have found,
I know I have infinitely more yet to find.

Day 2 - Making Out With L.A.

2008-05-25T00:05:00.000-07:00

Breakfast at The Original Pantry.
Willshire Road to the Getty.
Van Gogh, Cezanne,
and Irene from Ireland.
Kissed by the sun.
Looking up at stone sculptures,
over the City of Angels,
and through Beverly Hills.
A winding double yellow line.
A Sunset Strip double expresso.
Another cold night,
a new old school army coat,
and family dining in Hollywood.
Hotel Cafe's red velvet curtain.
Kissed by vodka and 6 acoustic strings.
Midnight and nothing left in the tank,
accept 4 dollar gas.
101 South.
Little Tokyo hotel pillow.

Day 1: San Diego to Los Angeles, One Small Step

2008-05-24T11:13:00.000-07:00

Day 1:

Morning came and, restless, I got up the first time I woke instead of turning over to go back to sleep as I normally would. Everyone else was strangely quiet, even Jimmy. They slept until 7 and so I was up the first 2 hours of the day alone. I emailed a couple of people, read the news and felt my way into the day. When I finally got up to make coffee the cat joined me. She wasn’t content with me so she proceeded to do what I actually wished I could and wake everyone up with her incessant yowling. Soon the morning was moving fast and with many small delays, almost as if San Diego had an orbital pull on us, even though we intended to leave, we couldn’t quite get out of the county. I was standing at my broker’s front desk waiting for them to track the FedEx package that was supposed to be waiting for me there, with my replacement credit card in it, when I realized that even if I knew where the package was I wouldn’t have it in my hand, so I told them I needed to go. I got in the car with Jimmy and with nothing left to do or take care of before we could leave we headed for the highway, and north. The weather was so dark and cold and rough that it was not like San Diego at all. The traffic was slow and it was as if the place was holding us, not quite ready to let go. I felt like that too. I want to go. I want this so much, this grand adventure and a life in a new place with new people and new experiences. Still, it was so hard to see my son Alex trying to say goodbye this morning. So hard to hear my friend’s voice saying how sad she is and that she will miss me so much. So hard to imagine that I will likely never live here again. We didn’t get far today, but we got out. In the end all the delays and the weather and traffic couldn’t hold us. Our stuff is gone. We have to go. The time has come to leave. Blended with all the sadness was an incredible sense of purpose and certainty.

We landed in Los Angeles for visit with my mother and sister. We picked my mom up for dinner and because Jimmy is so good at asking questions, and maybe because she knows I’m going far away, she talked with us for the 1st time in years about something other than her health. We talked about politics and she let Jimmy see, and me remember, the powerful and opinionated woman she was in her youth. My mother is the reason I am the woman I am. She is the reason I can go away to South America. She is the source of that sense of fearlessness. Maybe it was genetic. Maybe it was learned. I don’t know. Probably some of both. No matter what has passed between us in the years since and how long the road has been to learning to be a powerful woman in ways she didn’t know how to lead me, I still remember that woman standing in the face of power, so physically small, yet somehow so big and so un-moveable. I can see her, all 5’3” of her, with her curly red hair, standing facing a police officer on the grass in Washington DC with a sign that read “We Shall Not Be Moved” or “Women & Children Are People Too”. I can see her in small towns in Mississippi and Tennessee and other places across the South standing up to people who would deny others their rightful place in our society. As small as she was she never backed down in the face of power. Sometimes that got her nose bloodied. I learned that even if it hurts you follow your heart where it wants to go and you never let fear choose for you. It was nice to see that in her again yesterday. It is one of the things I love about being with Jimmy and hope to learn by watching him, that way he has of drawing out of people the very best in them. Maybe that is why everyone loves him so, because they are at their best when they are in his presence. I laughed inside when my mother talked about going out and marching again. She said if the people go, she will go with them. That would be a sight to see and if she went I would go to, just be there and to get a picture to show to my grand children when I tried to explain the kind of people they come from.

I sat tonight in the company of a man I deeply love and respect and watched that woman I remember come to life for him, just a little. We drank a lovely wine and we ate lovely food and listened to other tables laugh and talk and when the night was over my eyes welled up. My mother is 68 and she is not well. I am going very far away and don’t know when I’ll be back. This night, after a long hard day in coming here, was precious to me and I was sad to see it end. I was not sad to see the end of day 1 though. It was a tremendous day and it feels good to be on the road. The story will begin to unfold from here. I’ll keep you posted...

Travel Dates

2008-05-22T17:50:00.000-07:00

And So It Begins...

I quit my job last week.
Our stuff is boxed and gone.
It sits in some West Coast port,
bound for the open seas and the southern hemisphere.
The only key left in our possession is the one for our car.
One key.
No home.
So I guess we're unemployed and homeless.
Despite their traditional undertones, those words make me smile.

Tomorrow a 44 day, cross-country roadtrip begins.
It ends with a one way flight to Buenos Aires.
There we make a go of opening the Yoga/Art Studio.

The blog is set:

http://44daystoargentina.blogspot.com/

Follow along as little or as often as you like.
Pass it on to anyone you want.

Here's list of the places we'll hit along the way, and the days we'll arrive there:

Los Angeles, CA - May 23
Monteray, CA - May 25
San Francisco, CA - May 26
Reno, NV - May 28
Las Vegas, NV - May 29
Ogden, UT - June 1
Fort Collins, CO- June 3
Somewhere in the middle of Iowa- June 7
Winona, MN- June 8
Gilman, WI- June 9
Milwaukee, WI- June 12
NYC- June 19
Connecticut- June 23
Boston, MA- June 26
Philadelphia, PE- June 29
Washington D.C.- July 2
Buenos Aires, Argentina - July 6

7 years ago, I wrote these words down in one of my journals. At the time I was back in Wisconsin working two jobs, just trying to save enough money to get out to California. Now on the eve of this journey, for the second time in my life, what I wrote back then seems somewhat fitting:

One morning I will awake,
and I won't be sleeping here anymore.
I'll look around me
and everything I see will be unfamiliar.
My shadow will have no name,
and all that I know will seem incredibly minuscule
in relation to that which I don't.
As I start that day I will know little or nothing of what it will hold,
and it will be then that my soul will take in,
and then expend, its deepest breathe.

Take care friends. I hope to catch you on the flipside, whenever and wherever that may be.

Peace and much love,
Jimmy

A SPECIAL THANK YOU:
There are a million places I know all of you from on this email list. Some I have grown up with. And some of you I have been fortunate to have randomly had a chance to sit next to on an airplane. Plus everything in between. While you have had some glimpse of who I am, there's one person who you most likely don't know. She is one of the most amazing people I've ever had the chance to meet. And she is the the one embarking on this journey with me. My partner in crime, my girlfriend, Annie. Without her this surreal adventure would not be possible. I know I don't say it nearly enough, but thank you Annie for you just being you, and all that you bring into my life. Usted es mi rayo del sol, mi amor.

CHECK BACK SOON

2008-05-16T10:31:00.000-07:00

We leave San Diego May 23rd!!