The Social Porcupine

Part two of an ongoing roadtrip series  After Grief Comes Nostalgia Fellowshipping with a group of ex-amish women over Thanksgiving in Lancaster Pennsylvania My only plan for November and October was to write. I wrote, and two new novels came to me. Beginning of November I met up in Asheville with one of my best friends. We found ourselves all the way down in Louisiana for the Blackpot festival, then up to visit friends in Mississippi: a pile of wild boys with the most dangerous ideas of fun. Somehow we lived and didn't want to leave.  Back in Asheville I did a bit of a work trade sewing a bunch of cushions to stay in at an artsy commune. My sunroof was also broken into. Nothing of mine was even rifled through. I figure they took one look at my hanging herbs and baskets of mugs and chopsticks and piles of wool and linen and thought it must be a witch's lair. Nothing was stolen. But ...

I don't feel boredom. I'm recovering from an addiction to anxiety (so I've been drawing faces onto my toes) After a steady workaholic season I decided it was time to get on the road again. This time indefinitely and with less structure than before. I basically won't come home until I've danced in Tennessee, and hopefully l'll return with twenty-five feet of tatted lace.  I will most likely stay on the road longer than that. I need to learn to hold onto something (faith). And I need to prepare myself for some big changes.  My first destination was a family reunion in Oklahoma. But first I organized a hike with a random assortment of Colorado friends (they did not know each other).  We did a lot of car camping and caravanning for the weekend there. We tried to visit a small cult I love, but that didn't work out. I found a beautiful café and saw googly eyes on construction cones. But this lower picture is from some bathroom in Co...