Friday, September 12, 2008

Bear Sighting

Finally happened.

I know you're supposed to stay away from bears...
but we were kinda excited so we ran toward it.
For pictures.
I will post them when I can.

Coarse and shiny black,
His coat seemed heavy
as it rolled with lumbering
paw steps.
Muzzle of gold,
he panted throught it.
Saw us and ran...
and didn't seem so heavy any more.
He nimbly bounced over the grass, head up...

right toward the softball field where Jenn was about to sit down and enjoy a cigarette.
A shriek and a rather impressive fence hurdle later,
Jenn was standing on top of Brittany's car
yelling if the bear was gone yet.

Sorry bout that Jenn.

After a few days and a few mischievous bear visits,
the head chef made an announcement as follows:
Now we all know there's been a big black bear hangin around,
so lets step up the cleaning
and try to clear the outside grill as best we can.
We don't want any incidents with the guests.

I love working in a place where "bear safety" is an agenda in staff meetings.

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I drank a Fernet con Coca at a bar in Montana.
The taste,
bitter sharp and herby.
The buzz,
heat emitting vines crawling up arteries to flower in my brain.

The whole experience was an amputation.
I was in Argentina again,
but all I could see were cowboy hats and glowing gridirons above them.
I was suspended between two times and two places.

I am no stranger to the paradox of position:

The most random insignificant stimuli
feeling rather ambitious
passes through its choice of my sensory organs
and arrives in my brain.

This is where most good little insignificant stimuli
are assigned a predetermined meaning and promptly shelved.
Not our little rabble-rouser.

Yelling "stick em up"
He holds up my Memory Bank
and high tails it
to the forefront of my consciousness.
Where, after an epic gun battle,
our outlaw goes down in a fiery ball of glory...
spilling his stolen memories before my eyes.
Becoming a legend.

This is why a smell,
rice ready for harvest.
A laugh,
forced guffaw or tinkling cascade.
A sight,
setting sun glint on the tiny-veined wings of millions of insects in a grass field...

Can each hijack my static here-ness
to another time and place.
No one can see when this happens.
You can never be prepared for it,
You can never force it.
but you can ride it.

And so I call myself wind...
with my brothers and sisters like me.
We are always going somewhere.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Contact Info and Videos on Ice

As requested folks, my contact info in Montana.

For Mail:

PO Box 1219 Emigrant, MT 59027

For Packages:

480 Big Creek Rd. Emigrant, MT 59027

I had to taste the ground to make sure it was salty.

Ever wonder what life looks like for a dog chasing a frisbee?

Coatis... the South American Raccoon. Watch out, they bite.

Iguazu: these falls in Argentina were mesmerizing. Like the Niagra of South America.

See how the jungle wraps the falls?

Rainbow by the falls.

Boat ride up the river to the falls.

The Boat ride under the falls.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Fear and Loathing

Below is a short piece I wrote in the airport, shortly after being overcome by sudden anxiety. The wave of terror passed as soon as it arrived, but it left an impression on me.
This is for anyone who has ever grappled with fear.

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A heart cramp.
Cool prick of a vaccine needle in some vague muscle
in some vague spot
in your torso.

It wallops into a tinkling crescendo...
the sound of an acme anvil dropped on a pyramid of beer bottles.
Jump Spasm.
You realize that there is something fragile in grave danger...
in your gut.

Creeping terrification.
Bland taste of ignorance.
Static panic:
Doubt.

Unbeknowst to you.
Tiny pranksters TP'd the tree limb-like tubes in your lungs.
Someone throws a maltov cocktail down your throat.
Don't choke on the smoke.

It's a good thing you are well practiced in dealing with the paralysis of fear.
Otherwise you wouldn't be able to wiggle your big toe.
Wiggle, toe...
------------------------------------------------------------------

I think I'm a cowboy, but I'm not...
I'm actually a housekeeper, dishwasher, driver, and waiter.
I did learn to dance the two-step in cowboy boots though.
So I'd say I'm heading in the right direction.

This is a high end guest ranch.
People pay more to stay here for two weeks than I did for my whole trip.

It stunned me like a coco butter smack to the face.
I have seen poverty...
Families shuffling through garbage.
I have been poverty...
stretching every last euro to the max.
Surviving off ham and bread and beer.

Some people live very differently.
Some people leave half of a $300 bottle of wine unfinished.

Don't get me wrong,
They are very nice... not uppity or snotty.
But the fact that they exist in the same world as the other extreme...
rattles me.
Somehow between Spain and here,
I must have entered a wormhole.
Too dazed and confused for loathing,
but I wouldn't know what to loathe anyway.
Who's fault is it...
the sprawling wasteland between really-haves and really-have-nots?

-------------------------------------------------------------------
Setting is epic.

The mountains reign here.
Commanding is their presence,
be it bright or brooding.
They bristle with evergreens and aspens tremble at their site.
Deliver down cloud swept frowns
or hawkish sunny grins,
on their back dwelling people-ants.
All we do is beneath them.

And the stars...
wow
It's like someone found a plug,
and singularly tiny-spark-summons
the building buzz of a million baseball stadium lights.
They drown out the black background.
They drown out words.

We are remote, and Wild is not far off.
Brittany has already seen several bears and two (yes TWO) Mountain Lions.
I have yet to see a bear here, but am repeatedly assurred that I will soon.

I like my coworkers.
We knock back brews and trade tales in the lodge with the guests at night...
stretching out beside sassy backtalking fireplaces.
Last night, after a brief tutorial from one of the wranglers...
I attempted and completed a rafter shot.
Ankle locked boots and hanging upside down from a crossbeam in the rafters.
Just picture my shit eating grin the other way around while shooting liquer UP my throat, and you'll have the picture.

The kitchen is top notch.
Manned and Womanned by golden characters,
it cranks out miracles.
I learned how to make pasta today.
That's a miracle itself.

Other things I hope to learn while here:
How to dance better (aka how to twirl the ladies till they don't know which way is up).
How to fly fish.
How to gallop on a horse.
How to hunt.
How to chop wood like a pro.

Pictures coming soon.