Balloons + time = fixed motorcycle = (travel through space & time x speed) x freedom to play guitar = joy

June 10, 2011

I was riding the bike looking at car names, on the bike I end up observing all sorts of details like this as I find myself so close to my environment : Odyssey, Escape, Horizon… Now most of these babies are rolling loans from the bank, especially the very shiny ones. I’m thinking about how the owners find themselves parked daily on these roads and highways at rush hour coming or going to work to pay for the “Escape”. It’s so ironic, it’s almost painful.

It is a strange world we’ve agreed to and it gets especially apparent when you start looking at it from outside of the confines of what “must be done”.

Lately I’ve been working fairly regularly at “Inflated Ideas” the balloon decoration place. I never thought of balloons before in my life except to get some for a garage sale sign. Now I literaly understand the ups and downs of latex or mylar high flying devices. My favorite is the gold colored balloons. With the gold ribbon. They are kind of like mini suns. They shine gently, they are harder to tie, but they’re worth the pain inflicted to the fingers.

Today at work I did inflate a lot of balloons but I also did some spring clean up work. Leigh has been really supportive that way, she hands me all sorts of Jacklyn of all trades jobs, she said about cleaning her van : ” well I could pay the detail guy or I can pay you.” so I am thankful. I like working for someone like her. She built her own business, works hard, is very talented and it makes me feel like I’m actually part of something real.

So to counter this organic-ness the Universe sent me another job today : a translation for a corporation that has been very harshly and visibly criticized in the media lately for extremely poor environmental practices in foreign countries… We’re talking gross stuff… My job is to translate to French a text written for the corporation that extolls their profound and deep commitment to the communities and the environment…

Ying Yang.


Little money-big money


Yes, again, it’s a strange world that we’ve all agreed to. We play along. We justify our abuses and selfishness : “but.. I need the money…” I sometimes think that we accept to pay all these taxes because we feel the need to atone for the guilt acquired from the things we do against our better judgments and hearts hoping someone else will have the guts to actually care and do the right things with that money.

So while I was riding the bike around, observing car names, taking some quick occasional sprints and such I noticed that Beowulf needs yet more mechanical attention, front end is feeling weird and a bit wobbly… bring on the jobs because that is going to cost money. Yeah. I too am on the band wagon.

I arrived home tired, sore and completely out of mental gas. I felt that I did not have an ounce of will to do anything more than collapse on the bed. I dutifully made the calls I HAD to make, then answered emails I HAD to answer. Then I tried to plug in the guitar in this new gizmo, I tripped hurt my toes and my hand, I was so aggravated I almost gave up. But I decided to persevere with the guitar and abandon the gizmos and just play.

2.5 hours later my soreness was gone, my mind uplifted, and the fatigue had vanished. I made the little guitar sing and my soul soared along with the notes escaping in the ether.

And here it is exposed. The machine, the physical, Reality versus the mind, spirit, the inner open spaces. I stumble from one to the other, not quite able to let it all go but finding nirvana in between duty bound hours with music or riding the motorcycle. It seems if one could really decide it, one could live essentially free in the open space and make matter respond to him as opposed to live as a “man as mud” entity and struggle forever with gravity.

I wish to shed more, i wish to see the point where the walls break down. There are moments that bring me close, I taste, then the Tests recommence. Still a student.

so in the mean time, in my physical world I miss the moon. I need to reopen my eyes, my doors, my soul. I need to get out and sleep under the stars. I need to ride… and play that guitar.

In 15 days I take off.

Thank God for guitars and the doors they open.

Thank God for motorcycles, motorcycle mechanics who keep them running and the balloon jobs that pay for them.


One Response to “Balloons + time = fixed motorcycle = (travel through space & time x speed) x freedom to play guitar = joy”

  1. bobskoot Says:


    it was great to finally meet you in person. I had been following your adventures, for months. I’m glad you got Beowolf sorted out and too bad Leo wasn’t around. Keep in touch. You also have an infectuous laugh. Have a safe journey home and take lots of photos along the way.

    Riding the Wet Coast

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