~Give a TED Talk
~Sail the Atlantic on a tall ship
~Go to space
~Hop a Train
~Spend the night on a billboard
~"I make myself rich by making my wants few."(Thoreau)
~"If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each person's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility."(Longfellow)
I'm poor, and I'm proud of it. I've been living in my van for over a year now, and it's been one of the most valuable, fulfilling, and confidence-building periods of my life. It's mind-boggling how much you can do with very little.
See, I view the quest for wealth as a game that I can't win. I believe the odds are stacked too highly against me. Those with the money-power have the money-power to keep their money-power and take mine. So I refuse to play. I choose to be powerless. And in that powerlessness I find strength.
As much as I detest self-centered capitalism, I am not in aggressive resistance against it. I merely try to live my life in a way that does not contribute to the problems I see. As long as I'm seen as benign by the "powerful," I figure they'll leave me be to go on happily living without their hollow games.
I like re-appropriation. I like repurposing. I like using things in ways they're not meant to be used. I dislike spending money.
I like to make things with my hands. I don't do enough of it.
I love climbing things. Doesn't really matter what, so long as it's solidly rooted in the ground. (Fuck A-frame ladders.) From rocks to trees to jungle gyms to buildings.
I love movement in general. Moving feels great.
Music is really important to me. Many of my current endeavors (which I will get to later) are related to music, especially chill electronica.
I love camping, hiking, and backpacking. I love the outdoors. I love nature.
I also love big cities. I love their age. Their size. That feel of broken concrete. I love that dirty, eastern-european look. Think train tracks. Think shelled out buildings. The undersides of bridges (particularly the Fremont bridge on the east side, right about Interstate and Mississippi).
I guess it's not unrelated to my love of nature. For example, I saw a sign once, the message on it illegible due to rust, leaning out over a landslide "cliff" that led to the banks of the Willamette. It was choked with blackberry. On the side further from the water, it had crawled all the way up that leg, up the back of the sign, and draped over top of it, presenting a wide splay of leaves to the sun.
...It was beautiful. Urban ruins, right in our backyard. Nature reclaiming its rightful property. It's a glimpse into the future. Centuries from now, long after America has collapsed, and almost every bit of information known about the culture has been lost to history, this is what archaeologists will find. When tourists take expeditions through the ruins of Detroit, this is what they will see.
What an odd note to end on.