One Man's Journey: Part 1
I have to leave Jacksonville. Leaving today on the Greyhound bus. It will be an interesting start to my venture to Asheville.
Still on the bus. First stop and we pick up my most dreaded thing to be stuck on a bus with. Dirty diapers. This time, not on a child but a 5-year-old.
Here comes the positive attitude. I’m smiling. Beautiful sunrise.
Made it to Asheville. I’ve been to Paris, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, London, Brussels, Long Beach CA, San Juan, etc. Asheville has them all beat, hands down.
I’ll try and get messages soon, including clues of where my journals are buried.
There’s a restaurant near the top of Park Square. I went in to ask them if I could sweep up their sidewalk. Trash, cig. butts, condoms, you name it. I was suffering from my usual OCD: Options, Choices, and Decisions. They must have thought
I wanted money, which I didn’t. I walked a block down the street and borrowed a broom from a parking deck attendant. Went back and swept the place clean. Then Karma kissed me on the lips. Minutes later, I traded one of my ideas of “Karma Spoken Here” for a t-shirt design to a shirt shop owner. He gave me a 30 dollar Rolling Stones shirt. It didn’t stop there. On my way back from the Graffiti bridge where I always try to catch the right sunshine, a car pulled up beside me and offered me a biscuit and fruit juice. We spoke for about 15 minutes, and me not asking for even a nickel, they handed me 41 dollars and two bags of biscuits with juice.
I’m sorta’ stable now, but not clear headed enough to make much sense or continuity. Maybe I’ll just buy another black and white composition book and fill it up and FedEx it to you. I may send it to you, Kid Rock, or Willie Nelson. Definitely coffee table book fodder. Asheville/Ashereal is scaring the hell out of me. All for good reasons. I think I discovered how this town became so laid back.
You know what a sky jack is? They keep leaving the keys in it two blocks from my bridge canvas. $300 a day to rent one. Three years of my life if borrow it.