fierce

showing a heartfelt and powerful intensity. wild

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front porch

she’s your dog

he says to me when she’s wild.

uncontrolled or unrestrained, especially in pursuit of pleasure

she listens and she defies. they all do.

she’s fierce. i say.

a direct reflection of her human.

i have not posted on this site since the fall of 2017, after we almost lost bean. i suppose i have lost and found myself a few times since then. often abandoning this project. re-dreaming it. contemplating what it is. what it isn’t. then reaffirming why i ought not justify everything. that its ok to wish you could text your dead dog. or hug her uncontrollably.

or write her letters. unrestrained

this is toulouse on the hopson plantation at the shack up inn in clarksdale mississippi. where Muddy Waters and Robert Johnson played the blues on their front porches after they farmed cotton for the military. i finally had this photo printed and cased. it arrived yesterday while i was drafting this; it now hangs over my desk.

the drunk bear was a project inspired by my life with touls. i think, when i don't think too much, our stories and aspirations are still fueled by her spirit. our memories. what my life was like then, and perhaps, what i wish it was more like now.

fierce and wild, intense and unrestrained, for all the right reasons.

but… pandemic. unemployment. social-political climate. fear. misunderstanding. we could go on. and on. and on. while we fell in love with the south, the owner of the shack up inn said ‘people used to be more like y’all, now we have to tell them to stop throwing their beer cans on the lawn.’ what?

but i get it now.

so i begin again. not in my van, but at my desk for now, to be more like toulouse, navy and bean in their intensity and compassion, their unconditional love and endless pursuit of happiness. until we hit the road again. challenge accepted. catch you on the flip side.

write. share. inspire.

poetry

stayfierce. staycurious. staywild.

hugyourdog

getdrunkbeardown

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