what we do for love

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the honeymoon phase. you can’t stop us.

power washing boat. gracie gets a bath. what it means to own a sailboat.

bath time

ok. update. i'm not sure what is indeed charming about owning a sailboat in maine in the winter. let’s be real, having a boat attached to your deck is something like the coolest fort ever and the biggest metaphorical poke in the side every time you glance out the window. feed me, your time your love and all your money.

but we wanted to. right.

it was mild that december day we gave gracie a bath. say in the 40’s and pouring rain and as you can (or can’t) see, dark, so we set up the spotlights. i see now the Edison bulbs upstairs give the photo a gentle, festive air. aha. nope. and the power washer, so loud. and the smell, think abandoned fish market. and the mud.

this was perhaps still the honeymoon phase.

and then we pulled her diesel engine off. yep. best night of the honeymoon.

but it was, ok maybe not the best night, but we were determined. you can in fact walk right from our deck onto gracie (super rad); you can’t see her in her full glory because we built her a house. yes her very own house. i’m pretty sure mother nature has been trying to rip it down since we finished it on a frigid january day around 9pm. no ma’am. you can’t stop us.

but. we do love our boat. her bathing needs, her no engine, her house, and perhaps most of all,

her potential.

admittedly we haven’t been working on her as much lately. cold will ruin any honeymoon. then again, sometimes you just need a little sunshine, and our electric propulsion system arrived on monday! that’s right,

gracie’s going solar

so yea, for real. . . it’s expensive, time consuming and often overwhelming. but it’s also what we do for love. with determination, grace, goodwill and compassion. what we do is our future. our potential. . . our evolution, if just one part.

and maybe one dream, one boat, won’t make a difference. but i love this fragile life, this fragile earth, and

. our house is still standing .

change

the . new . girl

revolution . evolution

get . drunk . bear . down

navy

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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

love and vengeance. power in association.

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co-pilot. genius. security system. teacher. best friend. this hug.

genius. 

stubborn. persistent. sweetest.

loyal.

always. hungry. brilliant. 

loyal. 

determined. brilliant. companion

you broke the mold girl

can’ t imagine the last nine years without you

may eighth was this beauty's birthday. it all began with a plane ride. then a house. maine. an apartment. maine. a house. another apartment. maine. another house. road trip. montauk. murphy. road trip. road trip. who knows how many moves and miles. and finally. 

the past fifteen weeks in nova 

from maine down to key west back up the gulf into louisiana to find my heritage up the mississippi into memphis through tennesee the smoky mountains kentucky horse country class five rapids in west virginia and back on the east coast in annappolis maryland into nyc and upstate and yes. that's right. maine for her birthday. 

this photo was taken in myrtle beach. that's me under the wool hat. the camera jonny used was stolen in memphis when nova was broken into while we walked toulouse and murphy to the mississippi riverfront. 

you’re being watched. he said.

highest crime rate in the country.  she said.

the reality of it all was, in fact, dangerous. so we left. sad and disturbed though simultaneously grateful. maybe it’s a matter of perspective or reflection, but what it comes down to is that toulouse. bean. nova. jonny and I are all ok. still get my hugs. still have my art. 

i'm home in nyc for the moment. though technically. i’m not great at being in one place for more than a few days. i do crave my book collection and writing supplies. pencils preferred. also the company of my dogs. if there is no water nearby, not even a creek. i’m generally not at home in the philosophical sense of the interpretation. of course. we could go on and on about the meaning of home.

whether a snapshot reminds me of myrtle beach with toulouse or the violation of nova is up to me. the power of association. art is everywhere. 

i’m not sure what i know.          if anything at all.           but i’m learning. 

so here’s to many more stories. snapshots. poetry. memories and favorite company.

homeiswhereyourdogis

getdrunkbeardownanddothenovadance

inside out. maine

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self. reflection. family. nova. 15 days in maine

you're not dressed up.

yea i am. as a lumberjack. 

what are you for halloween.

i'm a maina.

                         he laughed. 

it's cold now in the northeast. the above photo is from early september when we spent 15 days in maine. i read an article in downeast magazine about a quiet place with plenty of sandy beaches. indeed. sandy, quiet and breathtaking. and no, i won't tell you where. you'll have to go exploring.

the person behind the lens managed to capture me inside out in this snapshot. borderline complete.

there's something about maine. the sea. the pines. the water. the salt. the pace. 

as the seasons turn and fall settles in i have a tendency to reminisce a little more and sleep a little less. insomnia - my imagination's most beloved and despised companion.

i don't like large groups of people and neither does bean. he liked it here if you can't tell. we camped about 5 miles south and returned a day later before heading north.

the locals came swimming with swim caps in the evening light. others wandered through the tall pines to the coves edge with bottles of beer. one old woman came down in a wheelchair and her friends helped her into the ocean for swim-therapy. we sat with our dogs on the warm rocks drip-drying in the evening sun.

maine.

has a funny way

of invading my soul.

home away from home.

check back for snapshots of this secret spot in another couple days

getdrunkbeardownandexplore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

benjamin

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if found please call 207 . . . . . . . 

benjamin

the dingy to the left in this snapshot at sunrise in september. a plaque on his stern has his name and phone number in case he is found at sea alone. area code 207 plus another 7 will get benjamin home.

i'm not one to disclose much and i won't tell you where benjamin lives. sorry. it's just too sweet of a spot. and it is public.

I have shared this blog with a few people. what and why are the first questions. others ask what the hell. yea. i know. i'm a bit brief. curse of a poet and a short attention span. 

what? stories. poetry. snapshots. life.

why? because if i don't write i go crazy and people ask a lot of questions. consolidated answers.

what the hell? benjamin made me smile. he is a story of an impeccable sunrise in an exquisite place. a life simplified with nova. waking up to the sun. not the noise and wondering what number should be on my stern in case mother nature wins the battle. he also stirs up memories of my childhood. 

my grandfather was a sailor. an aviator. a philosopher. a father. my role model. yea there's more. my mother and I secretly bought back his dingy from a boat yard in maine. after he passed away my grandmother put it up for sale.

alleluia.

you should have seen her face when we told her.

life is. well. short. 

getdrunkbeardownandfindbenjamin 

one left

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drive north to drive south. the only cribstone bridge left in the world. suck it in nova. road narrows. 15 days in maine.

after dry camping in portland for a few days, we were determined to one, check out this rare bridge and two, find cedar beach - one of maine’s limited sandy beaches located on bailey island.

well.

some rich folk bought up the land that borders the drive to cedar beach so that was off limits. 

greed  

one of the seven deadly sins.

in jersey they call them free beaches

in long island the feds bought it all up

we’ve been kicked off them all.

preserve to destroy

got it all wrong

you cant buy the ocean.

well. 

with dumb luck we saw the bridge at low tide hence impressive exposure. we explored the southern tip of bailey island to find a small cove of sandy beach. 

finally.

no parking lines. no signs. no meters. no cement. no bathhouse. no “hours.” no open. no close. sand. water. stone and ice cream on the way back. no leash laws. no cops. no shops. salt. sea and a dirt lot. 

vacationland.

the statue is a tribute to fisherman lost at sea. photos collected in snapshots. the ice cream is great and so are the mermaids.

much luck to the residents of bailey island.

getdrunkbeardownandsavepublicbeaches