Moses has faxed handwritten notes. I will attempt to transcribe here. I apologize for typoes. His handwriting is not the clearest. More to follow.
Notes to myself:
– I am on a 7 something morning train to New York City. The day, it’s like sunshine and humidity rolled into a cigar of transit ready to be lit.
I watch the commuters around me. They are trying to grab the last moments of self before disembarking at NY Penn Station and jobs and demands that support a life.
I, free, float, time flying past me unable to find perch, use these moments to see my old life one last time. I will travel now. Move in rhythms undefined yet foisting the lesson on me. Lucky. Yes. I have money and freedom for this exploration. But, I think I would trade my freedom for their cage. They know who they are and what they fight for every day. I follow whim and metaphor searching for answers to questions I little fathom.
– The train pulled into New York Penn Station on time. As memory serves, for commuting this is unique. I stood in the middle of the large room, a
big board announcing all the departure gates hung from the middle of the ceiling. Standing there, no clue what to do next, I thought, “This is what it is to be feral … wild.”
I had a backpack, cash, no cell phone and no direction. So, I watched for a moment. People scurried about with what appeared determined direction. But to my observation, it seemed false. I remembered rushing to meetings, to deadlines important then but meaningless now.
In retrospect, my next step was synchronous, a path laid prior to any decision of my own. I walked out of the bowels of the train station and into the Border’s Bookstore. Why, I don’t know. At that moment the concept of a directionless pathway was almost paralyzing. Two floors of books, videos and coffee was a momentary mooring for this waterless wayfarer.
My first impulse was to seek out the science section but whim spun me towards fiction. I browsed down the aisle reading titles and author’s names. At “Shepard” he jumped out at me like a snake surprised in a rocky crag. Grandfather, or his earthly avatar, Sam Shepard had a new book of stories. I pulled it from the shelf and his picture stared up at me from the back cover. A picture I have used on my blog with that cat who ate the mouse grin and “I know things” twinkle in the eyes.
It appeared I was not on a journey or vision quest but rather a scavenger hunt set for me by the gods’ of chaos. Flipping through the pages my next step became clear. I bought the book and left the store. Picked up a coffee as I walked up town. My vision became tunneled as I moved north. People parted way for me. My crazed look comes in handy at times.