Thoreau and leaves that are green, turn to brown.

“One farmer says to me, “You cannot live on vegetable food solely, for it furnishes nothing to make bones with”, and so he religiously devotes a part of his day to supplying his system with the raw material of bones; walking all the while behind his oxen, which with vegetable made bones, jerk him and his lumbering plough along in spite of every obstacle.

Some things are really necessaries of life in some circles, the most helpless and diseased, which in others are luxuries merely, and in others still are entirely unknown.” -Henry David Thoreau-

And so by this standard i wish to live. Understanding that most of what I have are indeed luxuries, of which I am capable of doing without. Challenging the status-quo and simplifying religiously.

A driver looks at me questionably when i speak to her of my diving in dumpsters, wondering if picking me up was such a good idea after all. I wish to make a film, so succinct and well-rounded, that I may hand it to her and open up her world. That she may watch it and immediately understand Thoreau’s (and my own) philosophy, realising that “this spending of the best part of one’s life earning money in order to enjoy a questionable liberty during the least valuable part of it,” is neither rewarding nor rewarded. That I may save my breath while cruising the highways with her, and avoid my verbal blunders in an attempt to convince her of this lifestyle.

The film has yet to be realised but the process has begun. I’ve been collecting footage along my journeys and hope to have a realised product withing a few months.

In the meantime, of which I am most concerned, hours have and will be spent living and loving. Freight trains are rolling over my heart again and cold, dark, windy adventures are plentiful. An auto-rack rumbling around Holland has provided moments of magic, and plans for Slovenia are coming together. Hopefully another will carry us there. By November, Mandy and I will be rolling, riding and rambling southward. There are some big, white, snow-covered mountains awaiting us there and my feet have already begun to itch.

Until then, I can be found down by a silent lake, boiling my own beans by an open fire and watching the sun’s movements from dawn til’ dusk. A little tent and some words on paper to keep me company, I’ll wait there until the loneliness washes over me, filling in the empty pieces to this somewhat jumbled puzzle.

I know that a person is rich only in proportion to the number of things they can afford to let alone, and so it will be that the moon, stars, sunrise, and a few ‘necessities’ will be my only treasures for a little while.


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