nearly showtime

with one week to go, team m.r.h is still frantically packing up boxes and deciding what is going where. california, ny storage, italianate escopade, and then??? the magnum query we'd like put to rest. when our future president - ben ali - decided to run for the 5th term seems to have thrown u.s. diplomats in to a quandry and spelled potential disaster for tunisian fulbrighters - now possibly heading to morocco? yup that's right, could be a radical right turn across the sea as we head from roma to casa blanca - or daralbeda in arabi. we'll see where all this goes, for now, suffice it to say that we're having a rough time packing up our life into convenient discrete packages for the mailing, toting, storing, and living amist the 60,000 mile summer that we're logging in the air, roads, trains, campers, ferries, and motocycles. carbon offsets anyone?

the questions we're posing - what do we need, what will make the weeks of travel convenient with a almost terrible-wonderful two-yr, and what will make our return as smooth as possible - i.e. what do we need to get a job, a house, and friends once we land in the next local.

official schedule is as follows - subject to changes of tides, clouds, thunderhail, or nice sunsets.

ithaca till aug 15
las angeles till aug 17
santa barbara till aug 21
san luis obispo till aug 22
santa cruz till aug 23
san francisco till aug 26
chicago aug 27
ithaca aug 28
new york sept 3
rome sept 5

florence, venice, cinqueterra ...

tunis or casablanca sept 18 (for m.) sept 28 (for r.h.)

and then the dust could potentially settle?

if you'd like to host us or see us in this whirlwind, world spin, drop rebekah and me a line and we'll see what we can do about making the puzzle pieces and planets align. till then

wishin the best.

rebekah.dillon@gmail.com
805-602-0204

dicogno@gmail.com
607-339-1497

- 4:59

in the pre dawn, the best words of living seem to roam the earth - mythological compositions free to evolve instantaneously. so, like astronomers in hungry anticipation for an eclipse, I keep my restless nights open to the light these metaphors can shed into my frenzied existence. working the day away behind a computer in an over conditioned building with locked windows, i wonder how much longer, for what purpose, and why. the quiet and haunting night wild with possibility... the interstitial space of day to day: electric garbage trucks operating with quiet mechanical power, the bottle pickers rumaging in bins, green lights and red lights equally projecting to street cleaners driving against the one way. freight cars smash and bench sleepers stir. as twilight gives way to dawn, the magic of in-between coagulates. bird chips sound the alarm, bats return to the parking garages, and the metaphors of possibility are drown in the language of entrenched value and economy. this diurnal migration perhaps a porthole through the now - where the hourly salried wage is at it's weakest and imagination can be breathed into productive society's remnants. the winter of the day where time is free to meander or race as it pleases. at least that's what flashes through my skull when my eyes wink long in the warm womb of the 2 oclock afternoon... "i'm just saving myself for the best part of the day when I can be me... when I can hunt the words of substance, metaphors of meaning, and my antennae are more receptive to the calls from outer space."

5 oclock. birds sound the alarm.

here we go

not sure where or how to begin, like coming upon a marathoner midrace and asking them what step they are on. an obscure allusion but yes - i'm somewhere around 83 million in my brief 28 years. trying to do good without really thinking that there is one which i could do is kind of the tricky balance between cynical nilism and wistful hope; frederich von kierkagaard. and so a recumbant year to ponder the direction of my halflife. where and how did i get here and where and how shall i continue - essential existential. with partner and child in tow, trimming the sail for speed is not as optimal as efficiency of movement. a quiet voice, an unharbored anchor, laughter, and discretion the tenants my wisdom so dictate.