Leaving Sandwich

We took a day trip to Providence, RI yesterday. First off, sorry to Kate's cousin for not getting in touch with you there: we simply dign't have the phone number and the whole trip was not premeditated in any way, very last minute. Kate really wanted to find a way to say hello, but... alas.

Secondly, Providence was very nice. We went primarily to check out RISD, (Rhode Island School of Design) a highly reputable school for artists and designers. It sits adjacent to Brown University which is also very pleasant, very Ivy League.

We didn't really have time to check out much more than the general campus area of RISD, and the museum there, but it was a great day, a nice excursion, and, despite previous grudges toward the state of Rhode Island in general, a fine way to spend a day.

In the evening upon our return to Sandwich we stopped by the Hoxie House, one of the oldest buildings on Cape Cod. We sat on the dock below it while the turtles peeked up from reflections of sunset in the water. Some of the pictures I took are some of the best I've ever taken I think.

I've always had a side of myself that tended to get sappy unreasonably. I would get furiously angry at my parents for rearranging the furniture, let alone moving to a new town.

This morning I woke up and realized that we only have one more full day, tomorrow, in Sandwich, and then it is off on the road again Monday. I'm feeling all cramped up because of it, as if it was an impossible task, to leave Sandwich. I feel like its like, leaving childhood, again.

We're lucky to be so free, so untied, so lucky. We're lucky to be lucky. And we appreciate it.

Soon enough and no matter how far it seems, 'reality' beckons. in fact, I would venture to say that the farther you get from it, the louder the bellows of the real world become. This has been a focus of my thoughts and energy while in Sandwich, trying to get and take the time to resolve ongoing and stomach wrenching ideas of what it means to live the life you want to live, careers, planning for the future, ambition, resolution of dreams and the satisfaction of relationships. You know, the little things.

Somehow I came to a conclusion, perhaps out of necessity for my troubled mind about it... but I think really out of just being honest: I wouldn't want to live my life any other way.

Yes, I could have worked for a degree in business or health care, and be steadily employed and paying mortgage on a suburban house. Yes, I think that's great and all. Yes I could have a dog and a yard and even dinner parties with friends, a high credit limit and a television show that I recorded every week. And I miss those things strangely, I think they are great, but I don't have those things. But I have a road trip with a woman who I was lucky enough to meet because, simply put, she is right there with me in it, sharing the same kind of excitement and hope and anxiety. I have the contentment of knowing that my fingers have callouses from playing music, and that my camera is full of amazing pictures. That this trip isn't the first or last trip.

I'm just saying that finally, after weeks of really struggling with this, I finally feel that I am on the right track.

I do hope to find a place to live that really works for me. I hope that Kate and I can find a place that works for us. I want to have a decent job, play lots of gigs, make new music, work with new people, have a social life, meet new people, learn new things, build new stuff... et cetera. And all of those things seem really far away right now, and I have no way to control whether or not they will arrive intact from dreamstate to reality. And that's fine.

Anyways, we're leaving Sandwich, and this has been the best summer of my life. This time in Sandwich has been the most Summer of Summers I've had since I was probably 12 years old, having towel fights with Pete and Tyler around the swimming pool, jumping from shady spot to shady spot down Cromwell Drive.

And I've always wanted that, to have that again, I think we all should have another summer like that.