a new key takes you into a new door
The dates only correspond to when this was written.
Wednesday - July 12th
We made it back from Alaska today but I still can't find my way out of San Diego.
Somehow I've misplaced the key to my car and I don't have the means to get out of here until I receive a key in the mail from mom. Karla said that it was probably done intentionally so that I didn't have the means to leave. Not like I really want to go anywhere right now.
But the mail comes at noon and I'll be on my way shortly after that.
Thursday - July 13th
Still in San Diego, still no key.
So Alaska was big. I've looked at maps countless times before and seen the little land mass to the north without ever truly looking at the sheer size of that state. We were given a truck to drive around the Kenai Peninsula for a couple days and I was shocked to see how many hours would pass with a yellow line dividing the road into two rivers of cars with equal speed but opposite velocity.
We took a flight across the Cook Inlet in Uncle Cleve's single engine cessna to a much less inhabited area of Southwest Alaska. We flew low through a valley and saw little brown fuzzy dots along the horizon that turned out to be Black, Brown, and Grizzly Bears. After climbing up through the mountains we landed on a glacial plain to relieve our distended bladders. To the west was the massive Alaskan Range.
I walked towards the range. Not more than a few yards really. I felt uneasy so I stopped and turned to my right to face the lake formed by the run off from the glacier a few miles to the west. After a few paces in that direction I suddenly realized that my uneasiness was caused by the futility I experienced by walking. I could walk for hours and be just as lost as I was right at that moment. I could travel on my own power for a considerable amount of time and not make any progress towards a goal. I felt humbled like the ant that stumbles across the patio table without realizing just how far the edge really was. I could barely comprehend just what was before me.
Friday - July 14th
We got back into the plane, Cleve took off and then handed the controls to Oriana. We weren't 100 feet off the ground when he gave her a quick course on the controls and instructed her to follow the river that was before us. I found an aerial photo of it on google maps. Looking at the picture it's hard to realize just how small the canyon was and how steep she was banking the plane around the corners.
It was amazing to experience. The first few turns were a bit shaky, but she got her confidence quickly and was whipping that plane around enough to make Sarah completely freak out in the back seat. We were all nervously chattering on the radio about how well she was doing and Cleve was floored by her skill and confidence.
But we made it back to Anchorage and back out to the bars one last time before we caught a red-eye back to our quasi-reality.
Saturday - July 15th
And now I'm home, back in Los Angeles. This took a few days to write because my mind wasn't in the right place. I suppose that it is now, at 2 in the morning after a few warm Tecates and a walk around the old neighborhood.
I'm listening to slow music and thinking about the month that lies ahead. This convoluted sequence of days and nights strung out like a cassette tape unwound and wrapped in a tree's branches. I need to keep my timeline a mess so that I can deal with the concrete date that is fast approaching. It's easier to ignore the truth when you keep moving.
I wrote out a calendar on a scrap of paper. Not just a piece of paper, a receipt actually. And it was also used for some directions. This piece of paper has done so much for me, I should do something for it one day. Maybe give it a permanent home, a frame or a slot in the folds of my wallet. Honestly, most pieces of paper get only one use, but this little buddy keeps on coming through for me in a pinch. Hell, it's actually being a bookmark right now. I really need to buy this paper a drink some day.
But I wrote out this calendar on the best piece of paper that I've had in a long time. We were sitting on the tarmac at Seattle International Airport waiting to take off. I started with the 12th of July and continued on until August 16th. I circled a weekend to go up to San Luis and a few days to do some work at the cabin. I put a little star around the day of the party on the 12th. And I sat back for a second, with Oriana's hand in mine, and I felt a certain degree of panic flush across my body. Maybe panic isn't the right word. Maybe I don't have a word for it, but it was the feeling that I was about to lose something that I desperately didn't want to lose. That feeling when your keys fall out of your pocket while you're peering over the railing of a bridge across a deep lake. You know that it's too late to change anything, that the future has been written and you've no choice but to watch how it will unfold and how it will feel.
The feeling stayed for the flight. I didn't buy it a ticket, but it decided that first class was where it wanted to sit, right there in seat 3C. Who was I to kick it out? Somehow it found the key to my car and came up to LA with me. It sat in the back seat during the drive, but decided that it wanted to spend the night in my bed.
So that's why I'm still up writing this. I don't want to go to sleep with that feeling. I don't want to know that I'm really going to walk away from this.
But I don't want you to think that I'm hesitant to go. I am still completely behind this adventure and all of the opportunities it offers.
It's just that I know I'll be searching for those keys forever.
Wednesday - July 12th
We made it back from Alaska today but I still can't find my way out of San Diego.
Somehow I've misplaced the key to my car and I don't have the means to get out of here until I receive a key in the mail from mom. Karla said that it was probably done intentionally so that I didn't have the means to leave. Not like I really want to go anywhere right now.
But the mail comes at noon and I'll be on my way shortly after that.
Thursday - July 13th
Still in San Diego, still no key.
So Alaska was big. I've looked at maps countless times before and seen the little land mass to the north without ever truly looking at the sheer size of that state. We were given a truck to drive around the Kenai Peninsula for a couple days and I was shocked to see how many hours would pass with a yellow line dividing the road into two rivers of cars with equal speed but opposite velocity.
We took a flight across the Cook Inlet in Uncle Cleve's single engine cessna to a much less inhabited area of Southwest Alaska. We flew low through a valley and saw little brown fuzzy dots along the horizon that turned out to be Black, Brown, and Grizzly Bears. After climbing up through the mountains we landed on a glacial plain to relieve our distended bladders. To the west was the massive Alaskan Range.
I walked towards the range. Not more than a few yards really. I felt uneasy so I stopped and turned to my right to face the lake formed by the run off from the glacier a few miles to the west. After a few paces in that direction I suddenly realized that my uneasiness was caused by the futility I experienced by walking. I could walk for hours and be just as lost as I was right at that moment. I could travel on my own power for a considerable amount of time and not make any progress towards a goal. I felt humbled like the ant that stumbles across the patio table without realizing just how far the edge really was. I could barely comprehend just what was before me.
Friday - July 14th
We got back into the plane, Cleve took off and then handed the controls to Oriana. We weren't 100 feet off the ground when he gave her a quick course on the controls and instructed her to follow the river that was before us. I found an aerial photo of it on google maps. Looking at the picture it's hard to realize just how small the canyon was and how steep she was banking the plane around the corners.
It was amazing to experience. The first few turns were a bit shaky, but she got her confidence quickly and was whipping that plane around enough to make Sarah completely freak out in the back seat. We were all nervously chattering on the radio about how well she was doing and Cleve was floored by her skill and confidence.
But we made it back to Anchorage and back out to the bars one last time before we caught a red-eye back to our quasi-reality.
Saturday - July 15th
And now I'm home, back in Los Angeles. This took a few days to write because my mind wasn't in the right place. I suppose that it is now, at 2 in the morning after a few warm Tecates and a walk around the old neighborhood.
I'm listening to slow music and thinking about the month that lies ahead. This convoluted sequence of days and nights strung out like a cassette tape unwound and wrapped in a tree's branches. I need to keep my timeline a mess so that I can deal with the concrete date that is fast approaching. It's easier to ignore the truth when you keep moving.
I wrote out a calendar on a scrap of paper. Not just a piece of paper, a receipt actually. And it was also used for some directions. This piece of paper has done so much for me, I should do something for it one day. Maybe give it a permanent home, a frame or a slot in the folds of my wallet. Honestly, most pieces of paper get only one use, but this little buddy keeps on coming through for me in a pinch. Hell, it's actually being a bookmark right now. I really need to buy this paper a drink some day.
But I wrote out this calendar on the best piece of paper that I've had in a long time. We were sitting on the tarmac at Seattle International Airport waiting to take off. I started with the 12th of July and continued on until August 16th. I circled a weekend to go up to San Luis and a few days to do some work at the cabin. I put a little star around the day of the party on the 12th. And I sat back for a second, with Oriana's hand in mine, and I felt a certain degree of panic flush across my body. Maybe panic isn't the right word. Maybe I don't have a word for it, but it was the feeling that I was about to lose something that I desperately didn't want to lose. That feeling when your keys fall out of your pocket while you're peering over the railing of a bridge across a deep lake. You know that it's too late to change anything, that the future has been written and you've no choice but to watch how it will unfold and how it will feel.
The feeling stayed for the flight. I didn't buy it a ticket, but it decided that first class was where it wanted to sit, right there in seat 3C. Who was I to kick it out? Somehow it found the key to my car and came up to LA with me. It sat in the back seat during the drive, but decided that it wanted to spend the night in my bed.
So that's why I'm still up writing this. I don't want to go to sleep with that feeling. I don't want to know that I'm really going to walk away from this.
But I don't want you to think that I'm hesitant to go. I am still completely behind this adventure and all of the opportunities it offers.
It's just that I know I'll be searching for those keys forever.
Devin thought this was worth your time
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