navy

aka Kengali's Smooth Sailing. the new girl.

'big brother'

navy gravy . 'cause she pours it on'

unbelievably affectionate and loving, intense and brave. curious. funny and always hungry.

'cause she pours it on? yep. love love and more love. navy like gravy.

accompanied by a friend who works for Jet Blue, i flew from NYC to Boston to Orlando and back to NYC to bring her home. dec. 20-21. 2016. 7 weeks old.

a week later her first weekend trip. the poconos. the next week. montauk. 2 months later navy was a full time nova dog. 

after a few years of what felt like overwhelming personal loss. navy was a new light. a reminder to embrace our past present and future. to accept the now. the memory and with hope - the unwritten story. she reminds me of toulouse from time to time. she reminds bean . not all is lost. 

navy is named for my grandfather, a naval aviator and sailor whom I admired and adored. 

"make haste to be kind" -RH

getdrunkbeardown . hugyourdog . dothenovadance

navy and boris in nova

'cause they party while we sleep

thoughts on bears for inspiration. imagination. and clarification. 

bear bear. pictured above on the right was the first stuffed bear my dad bought me. into my stroller he went with size enough to hide my infancy. instant love.

corduroy. the other bear above left, came later. he reminded my dad of his own old bear, carried by the arm as a child - crookedly dangling with weighted feet. I did the same for years. 

every dream. every vacation. every sleepover. 

and still, they come on our adventures in nova. sometimes with friends.

i always believed my bears partied while i slept. raided the fridge. painted their faces. danced. filled the bathtub with water - pool party. perhaps they climbed out the window and went exploring. built forts. played cards. took a nap. who knows, maybe now bear bear and corduroy drink wine and philosophize. read my extensive poetry collection. write letters or discuss the fate of the planet. the fate of the bear. and yes. 

                                                                       i still believe it. 

                                                                       or imagine it. or

                                                                       live it. 

and no. it's not about getting tipsy. 'matter of fact it’s quite the opposite. see 2a for misconceptions and bear  here in stories. get drunk. bear down. is well. sort of like . .  get passionate. dive in. get happy. dance away. get creative. go create.

get drunk . bear down . enjoy the ride - ace

'cause it fits in a parking spot. where we live.

bean lounge. (un)leash your dog. sleep anywhere. everywhere and . . . in between.

now that's the way to do it. 

all four of you fit in there? 

i could never do it. 

where do you sleep?

that's nova. aka, noves. the girl. she's 18 ft.

bean just turned 4, lazy boy.

and yea, people ask these questions all the time. and yea, we make ourselves fit. we also made a lot of changes. microwave out, books in. tv down, cable cut.  2 motorcycles, truck, car. . . gone. donate old i-don't-know-what. . . done. house on market. . . check. NYC studio . . still got it. 

travel. learn. explore. study. bar. culture. music. food. surf. fish. . . 

life?

still living. still learning.

you live in that thing?

no. 

where do you live?

nowhere. . . well, everywhere. but we have a studio in NYC. so that's where we live if you have to peg us. we travel in nova. did we live in nova this spring for 3 months? we slept in there - we lived wherever we were. before work started up in nyc we had to fix up the house. but it had no furniture so we stayed in nova in the driveway for almost a month. but sometimes we would go to our home in the city for a few days. so where did we live

with our dogs

in the grass

on the street

by the beach

in the lot

at the marina

with a cold beer

and good company. 

up the trail

along the creek

on the slope

down the hill

toward the end

in that spot

in our home

across the bridge. 

it's not for everyone to live in a van for any amount of time. to live on the road. to camp. to travel constantly. each week or every few days. OR to live in a house with a picket fence. to mow a lawn. to live on an island. to live in nyc. to have the same neighbors for 40 years. to live east or west or up or down. we could go on. but how often do we hear: where do you live? and is it ever: what do you live in? where do you sleep? where is your home? who makes it home? why is it home? where did you grow up? i mean. aren't we all still growing up and living each day. year. experience? don't we live everywhere . . .  ? 

another question we get all the time is where would we go? after all the places you've seen, where would you move to? settle down for a bit, you know, after nyc gets old. . .

hah. to buy a boat. that's where. 

get drunk. bear down. and do the nova dance.

blues

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

this place was fullilove. 

clarksdale, missisippi. 

who knew. 

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

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

harmonica camp. 

yes, that’s right. harmonica camp.

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

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

lame.

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

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

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

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

snapshots are in snapshots

getdrunkbeardownandplaythatharp

and

dothenovadance

and

hugyourdog