I spent my first night in the van last night. it was a new feeling, have you ever felt something you've never felt before? or maybe it brings to mind a distant recognition? that's what it was like. the closest i can come to naming it is to say i felt like a kid in a fort i'd built, hunkered down for the night and my parents didn't know i was there, though i never actually did that as a kid. my cat, Freyja, is adapting well. she was a bit pissed last night when we were driving around, but once we parked she was purring and eating and acting like herself. i opened a bottle of wine i'd been saving for the occasion--a nice chianti, and settled in to read and write. i wrote a response letter to my ex-boyfriend who is doing some time. i guess all that sobriety and time has made him think of me and what we had as not so bad. not that he ever thought it was bad, it just got lost in the shuffle i guess. he's like a twin soul, born only 2 days apart, only a few miles apart, both of us with classic aryan features--blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin. and we bring out the desperate romantic in each other, always a poem rather than a picture, a letter surpasses a phone call, and a graveyard the favored meeting place, the park be damned!
i sealed the letter and picked up my book "Blue Highways" which i'd started reading last year and put down not due to disinterest, just to soak in it. i think it's a big part of my inspiration to be a van-dweller. it's the america i like to explore when i'm travelling. the slow route, the ghost towns, the forgotten paths.
i feel great today after the first night in the van. i went to bikram yoga, showered, slathered on the coconut oil and headed out for my day, refreshed. alive. ready for my new life.
KCHBR day 8: zero in Visalia
1 month ago