I'm off to Burning Man. Go dust yourself.

Safely, if you please.

* I seem to be a good listener. I prefer asking questions to giving advice. Because, you know, once people feel comfortable talking to me (which seldom takes long), explaining themselves out loud is its own reward for them. It's something people do for themselves, all by themselves, but for some reason, nobody bothers except when presented with a sympathetic ear they feel the need to explain themselves to. As a result, just listening, patiently, effortlessly puts me on the receiving end of a a lot of good will and good karma.

Lately, I've felt that I don't share much of myself. Even though there's been tons dumped on this very blog, there's still a lot more going on inside me. I've felt it when I step away from the Internet and go for a walk. My head and heart are a busy place. I'm full of thought, imagination, logistics, fantasy, and creativity, and it shows when I can get away from all the INPUT online and let my mind float under its own power. Usually, my legs are dutifully marching beneath me at these times. Walking is my element.

* I am tired of waiting to leave for Burning Man. I can't pack what there is left to pack, because I still have two days of waiting left to do. *drums fingers*

* In the end, we're all dead, burned to ashes. But it's NOT just a matter of when, nor even how. At least, not for me. At some point, we are all taken aback by the finitiude of life, yet it is difficult to put our fingers on what we would immediately change as a result of that realization. I know I wouldn't change a thing. That's why I feel I'm doing it right.

I realize life has just knocked me flat on my ass in a big way, but I still say my life is pretty damn good. If you can do that, you'd probably be doing it right, too. Life is just not fair, and thank goodness it isn't. Because if it was, life couldn't be this good.

* Some day, being a good person will get me crazy laid. By women. Yeah, yeah, that's it... I don't even have 99 problems, but a bitch still ain't one.

Remember this? Well, I found it, thanks to Troll at Critical Massive.

Black Rock is not a city. It's an amusement park.

Everybody's got heroes; mine just happen to know my name.

They came out today for me. Some have been there for me for years. Some I just met last month. And I am ever so grateful, because each of them did their part to go above and beyond what I had any right to expect, to put the last of my worldly possessions into safekeeping.

I'm not even sure I know who all came out; I keep hearing hints of people who tagged along, as if it were a barbecue or something. There's also a rumor someone took a group photo to commemorate the occasion. Given the enormous relief I feel for being taken care of so thoroughly by my friends, and the overwhelming emotions that hit me when I realize how much I'll miss having friends this good to me, I definitely would love to have a copy and post it here. So let me know who's got it, eh?

To you all, I have no end of thanks.

To Kym, who sorted the whiteboard situation post-haste, and who's bringing me the hard disk out of my PC, with years of precious data. I hear she was jumping on my waterbed while it was draining! That's probably more action than that thing's seen since I left.

To Carmen, who was the first to arrive, and fished out the keys and other details. Thanks for putting up with the nosy neighbor, however briefly.

To Sammy, who has been my best friend in this town, for showing up on her first day off in a ten day stretch. And Ricalope, whom I'm still waiting to talk to about game.

To Carolyn, who brought me down many essential possessions last week, and gave me an opportunity to find some space and process. Also, for spontaneously volunteering 'the boys', and driving them to the scene of the move. And, of course, Andrew and Reece themselves (and others?) for lending some youth and muscle to the operation.

To Lara, Rosa, and Edd, who didn't even hesitate to respond when I put out the call.

To Ashes, who extended his care of Smoke unprompted when I got turned back at the border, and has been helping me sort through various things Internet since.

To Tammy, who, upon hearing about Smoke, offered to possibly give her a home. Crystal will be meeting with her tomorrow to see how she gets a long with her new kitty roommate.

And of course, Crystal, who's been able to help me plan and re-plan through this whole affair, and has helped me in countless practical and emotional ways for years. You've given me confidence to pull this thing off that I wouldn't otherwise have. I love you.

And finally, there's Alli, who didn't let an exhausting schedule of running a business and a job stop her from taking care of Smoke, cleaning the place, and packing my things in preparation for the move before I even had a chance to ask. You are amazing, Beans. I love you.

If I missed anyone, I'm only too happy to thank you, too. Ain't no friends like the ones you don't even know you have backing you up!

You guys have seriously saved my ass. Thank you so much. I love you, and I miss you. I owe you one. Hell, I owe you a fistful. I only hope I get to hug each of you again, someday. You are my heroes.

The door closes and locks.

...and the page turns...

Thank you so much to all of those who made this happen so smoothly. More later.

I think, in the interest of honesty, that I should let everyone know that, after my one year exclusion order is up, I do not expect that I will want to move back to Canada to live.

I've spent more than seven years living in BC illegally. After I was married, I was intent on applying for residency, but other budget priorities intervened, until our relationship had gone in other directions. After that, I was just hanging on as long as I could, knowing that I was taking a risk.

I'm a fairly risk-averse person. But there was no doubt in my mind about one thing: //you were worth it//.

And now, the bough has snapped. The damage is done. the bonds have been cut. I will surely come back to visit everyone I loved in Canada when the time is right. And though I never make complete commitments on behalf of the people I'm going to become among my many futures, I strongly doubt that I'll want to be back for good.

Now, I can hear you ask: "If we were so worth it, why wouldn't you do it again?"

When I moved to Victoria, I spent the first year or two missing Vancouver. It took 3-4 years to finally form a big enough circle to feel loved, to feel welcome, to belong, to feel //at home//. It took me that long to commit, after two serious plans to move back there, and even one to move on to Portland, all of which failed. I couldn't move back to Vancouver because I was unable to leave the lovely friends I'd made in my new home.

And that, projected into the future, is the reason I suspect I won't move back to Canada: because I won't bear to cut the new ties I am sure to make wherever I finally decide to settle.

I know I am lovable. I know I have love to give. And I know that there are lovable and loving people //everywhere//.

So, instead of laying down roots, and loving with a few people in one place, why not scatter down the roads, and the tracks, and to the four winds, and sow the seeds of love everywhere you can, for everyone who needs it?

And, really - who doesn't need love?

I don't know how important my new friends are going to be to me. But I know that I will make them. I know that I will pledge them my loyalty. I know I we will love each other. I know they'll mean the world to me, just the same as all the Canadians I have come to love.

And I've never left that, unless I had to. So I doubt I will.

I love you.

I am alternating between being well and having a hard time. I'm not dealing well with interruptions, with constantly living in someone else's space. This is going to be hard, and I don't know if this is the right time to be saddling myself with personal growth challenges.

But then, there ARE no good times to be saddling yourself with personal growth challenges. I had been trying to move to Portland for over a year - but it took the brutest of chance events to FORCE me to do that. Sometimes it takes a big catastrophe to get me to move on.

I am telling myself that I am traveling, rather than settling, now, because there are many people who would love to see me. This is a big sacrifice for me - especially for so long as four months.

Or maybe this is just another internal circumstance I don't understand, just yet.

And there's been something, quiet, private, and somewhat secret, that I have not been sharing, for more than a year. I no longer fear sharing it, but I still don't know why I should. It's one of those things that one always has the option to tell, until one does. I can only suspect that it will persist, until a reason finds me.

Perhaps my frustration or anxiety is caused by circumstances that will change drastically on the playa, and beyond. The playa radically affects your body's internal circumstances as surely as your surroundings. We'll see what happens //after//, in Oakland.

I'm travel planning. Tradeoffs are hard and cruel. Who to go see first? And again, later, perhaps? Do I need a longer pass?

Never let what is before your eyes distract you from what's behind them.

Things are getting taken care of. I now have at least eight friends committed to showing up to move my house into storage on Sunday. Sheesh: I didn't have that many to help me move IN. How awesome is this?

The landlord and his family are pulling suspicious shenanigans with my stuff and my cat. This shouldn't be too bad - I AM moving out, after all.

I am populating my Amtrak tour with more and more friends. I keep digging more and more out of my memory. I have no idea what I will discover, or why I am going to see so many people. But I know it won't hurt, and I know I'll come away from this experience with answers.

I'm good for this. My shit is getting sorted. I'm still happy. You can't stop me.

And when I settle into another place I can finally call my own, I'll know I have grown through challenge with flying colors. I'm a competent human being.

... I think I'm just tired, and spouting generic pleasantries because I just feel good, at the moment. It might be a little inaccurate, but it's in the neighborhood.

I'm going to be just fine.

Alright, it's show time, my friends. I need the help of many hands.

This Sunday and Monday, August 22 and 23 anytime after 11am, I REALLY need to have my apartment in Victoria moved into storage. PLEASE consider putting a little bit of time into this, because I can't be there to make sure it happens smoothly.

They say friends will help you move, and real friends will help you move bodies. Well, I need true friends - the kind that will move //for you//, when you can't be there, because immigration won't let you back into the country.

I can tell you that this will likely be the easiest emergency move you will ever do. On Saturday the 21st, I'm going to order a UPak self-storage container to be dropped on site. With 3-4 hands, this should be a piece of cake; my apartment is small (I remember joking once that the moving truck we used to move in was bigger than the apartment itself), does not have a lot in it, and it only needs to be loaded once, not loaded and then unloaded later.

My address is 3170 Cook st, near Finlayson. Alli Bean, my wife, has access to the keys. Her phone number is 250 891 6369. She will hook you up with them. Alli has been taking care of Smoke, the cat, and doing what little pre-emptive packing there is to do. There are garbage bags of numerous descriptions in the lower cabinet to the left side of the kitchen sink if you need them.

I believe that there is a padlock, with matching key, in the second drawer down under the window in the kitchen. Please use this to lock the UPak locker.

There are three odd things to remember:
1) my computer workstation, including the tower, keyboard, mouse, LCD monitor, a pair of power cables, and one power bar, will be going to Ashes' house for deployment there, instead of in storage. It may already be gone by the time you get there. Alli is just going to yank the hard drive, wrap it up, and hand it off to one of you nice burner types for delivery on the playa. The rest of the PC setup can go into the locker.

2) Smoke the cat, is going to be picked up by her owner, Crystal, sometime soon. Smoke's food and water bowls, food, litter box, travel cage and leashes (which are located in the cabinet above the fridge) should stay with Smoke, so that they can travel with her when she goes.

3) There are two large 4'x8' white boards in the kitchen. One I'm buying, but the other is for BurnVic. If both are still there, they are to be packed in the UPak, but at least one needs to be easily accessible for retreival from the locker later without having to move a whole lot of my stuff around. Kym and Ashes sorted this earlier this week. The remaining white board can go in the locker. Thanks, guys!

There should not be a whole lot of cleaning necessary, as I've only been living there for three months, and I cleaned before I left. I would imagine the floors (especially the bathroom, where the litterbox is) will need sweeping and vacuuming. I have a broom outside the bathroom door, but no vacuum. If one of you can bring one to use on completion, I'm sure all involved would be grateful.

Once everything is loaded, I'll call UPak to come pick it up, and I will personally thank the crap out of each and every one of you, because you are seriously saving my ass.

Seeing as this is a new phase of life outside of BC, I have installed a new site header graphic of an Amtrak train trundling down the California coast.

There seems to be an emphasis on what's been left behind it. That fits my mood perfectly right now.

I think these are my foundational values:

Autonomy

I'm me. I am acting to reduce dependencies on industry, debt, employment, and other people for my livelihood. One might mooch for a time, but the simple fact is that gifts come with strings, even if you're only attaching them to your own heartstrings. I want a horse I can look in the mouth. I have to live in a world that might well be in the midst of collapse; best not to go down with the ship.

I value my own time, where decisions can be made up or reevaluated on the fly, instead of hewing to plans, commitments, or promises made to others. I value my own space, as a place to decorate and create with exclusive editorial control. I like to just get up and go, or roll over and stay, on no schedule at all. A kind of happiness is measured out in the inversion of the amount of time that passes between when you plan your life, and when you live it. I'd rather live, and decide, in the present, than in a future.

Autogamy

I've been married. I've had a girlfriend. I've been polyamorous. I'm still straight, and attracted to women in general, but I am still the best lover I've ever had. My own private imagination and industry have proven extraordinarily satisfying, to the point where I am not sure another sovereign human being could compete in satisfying me sexually, emotionally, or otherwise intimately. Behind closed doors, I am extending myself to other bodies, other genders, and other states of mind. To make others happy, one must operate from a state of abundance. I have cast of many social conventions stigmas in my own solitary practices, and I have learned what pleases me more than I've ever received from anyone else.

I might share more of this, someday.

Austerity

Money can kiss my ass. If you want to pay me twice as much, I want to work half as long. I have pulled far more satisfaction out of learning to release consumptive impulses than in earning the money it costs to want things. I would rather earn just enough to know no one will knock down my door for the rent; just enough to engender peace in all my human relationships.

There's a political class warfare angle to this, as well. We don't live in that unique a time in history: plutocracy still thrives. The only things that matter are not the expensive things, but the cheap ones. Those are the only things everyone can afford. Poverty is solidarity.

I refuse to go into debt. My credit rating exists so that I can abuse the trust of banks. I will not trade my futures for today. They don't belong to me, but to who I will become. If I must, I'd rather borrow from humans.

Poverty is efficiency. If you can live on little, you can live on anything. If you can create cheaply, you can create a lot, and you can shine a light forward out of the darkness of this plutocratic catastrophe.

Empathy

Sovereign human beings are sacred to me. They exist to provide an opportunity for me to stimulate my own mirror neurons, by making them as happy as I can. They do not exist to serve or provide for me. The world does not owe me a living, and I don't owe it one. We're wired to want communities, friendships, families, and lovers. I'm no different.

I love others better when I need nothing from them. If I know how to make myself happy, I know better hoe to make them happy.

Fear is a useless emotion.
Regret is just fear in hindsight.

Kalispell, Montana
Fargo, North Dakota
Oakland, California
Albuquerque, New Mexico
Phoenix, Arizona
Dallas, Texas
Washington, DC
Atlanta, Georgia
Jacksonville, Florida
Seattle, Washington
Portland, Oregon

I have friends in all these places. And I intend to visit each (and some twice!), by train, before this year is over.

Yeehaw.

The unknown is not merely one thing we fear.
It's the only thing.

I just got back from the Centralia Old-time Music Campout with Carolyn and Kaitlyn. It was nice.

I have not much interest in old-time music. I didn't even recognize it as its own genre (subgenre) before hearing about it. Seeing as I had all my camping gear and suddenly had no place to live, Carolyn graciously invited me to the campout to kill a week while I planned and put my life back in order. It's by donation, and they won't turn anyone away if they can't pay. A few hundred very nice folks trickled in over the course of the week, and made me feel quite welcome.

As tents sprouted throughout a farmer's pasture, fiddles, banjos, mandolins, autoharps, and guitars would clump up under shade structures and trees with increasing frequency, churning out folk music of many descriptions. It was a nice to be around, even if I hadn't the instruments or the skills to join in.

One thing I noticed as peculiar and interesting: unlike in a concert atmosphere, when a song finishes, no one applauds. That's because there's no audience, or if they is, they're in a tiny minority. These are musicians, making music with each other. Everybody's happy with their music, but if there's an instrument in their hands, they're too full for applause anyhow.

My friend Crystal once told me this is how people make music in Chile, when she went. There's something that's been changed with the addition of electricity and electronics. Trying to keep electronics from copying is like trying to make water not wet (as Bruce Schneier says), but the ability to make copies easily meant that recordings flooded into being, making music consumption far more prevalent than music playing or making. The traditional participatory nature of music was overwhelmed by a market relationship surrounding the sale of recordings.

As a result, I wonder, at times, how one might go about creating and promoting a culture of popular musicianship in electric and electronic genres of music. Where are the Live PA electronica campouts, where people come from all over to jam with one another with circuit-bent synths, sequencers, samplers, FX processors, and turntables?

These things might well already exist. Maybe now would be a good time to go looking for them.

With some resolution on medium term plans, short term ones have smacked back into focus. I need to be moved out of my place in Victoria in two weeks. I'm going to need local friends to swarm my place and do this.

The plan as I know it so far: my old roomie Crystal has some stuff stored in a Upak in Victoria. We're going to deliver the Upak to my place. She's going to move her stuff into a rented truck, and then my stuff will go in the Upak.

An alternative that occurred to me in crunch time: I could rent and deliver a NEW Upak to my place, have my stuff packed into it, and then Crystal can handle her stuff separately.

Regardless, I need to take a poll here: Can you help me move down the driveway? I don't have a lot of stuff, so it will be easy. I just need to know what your schedule is so I can plan when to have the Upak delivered and picked up.

Do as you're sold.
--Zobeewa