Where Am I Headed?
After a month of posting daily to Scooter in the Sticks I need to pull off the road for gas and look at the map. Not sure where I’m headed or what I hope to see along the way. Riding home from work today had me thinking about a direction.
And that it’s still cold.
For a long time I’ve been content to let things unfold without plans or interference on my part. It’s how I decided to participate in the Brave, Bold Blogger Challenge 2016. That and a sometimes no-well-thought-out response to ideas and projects that “seem” creatively challenging.
I won’t rise quickly to paint the bathroom, but 29 posts in 29 days – count me in.
Being completely honest, I learned a lot about myself, my ideation and writing abilities, and was rewarded with some interesting web data about reactions to post subjects and frequency. Not sure if all bloggers do this but I monitor traffic on a variety of blogs and websites of which I admire the voice and content and measure my traffic against them. There’s no real reason to do this, I’m not selling anything or trying to attract sponsorship opportunities. Perhaps it’s the little part of me that harbors some inkling of competition.
So when I received a message a few days ago about what I was trying to accomplish here and how I may be able to do that without posting frantically I was left wondering what my goals are with Scooter in the Sticks.
Goals.
Goals?
Makes sense only if I connect the time I spend riding, making photographs and writing as a means to an end. Can’t that be the end itself? A labor of love.
Maybe.
When pushed I can devise a goal: Create an engaged readership to which I can market my Scooter in the Sticks book. If I ever write one.
Or: Share the cosmic experience of riding a Vespa.
No?
Allure of Abjection
Behaviors are hard to break. Riding home today I had to stop to look at a large, filthy pile of snow. I could never pass up a pile of trash along the road, tailings at a mine or debris collections of almost any kind. “Evidence of something” echoes in my head as the collective call of discovery.
I first heard the term “abjection” in art school as discussions took place around some of the more controversial art in America boiled — artists like Cindy Sherman, Kiki Smith, Louise Bourgeois, Carolee Schneemann, Collier Schorr and others upsetting the status quo of beauty. But that depressed, gloomy look of certain places was always attractive — beauty is in the eye of the beholder. These piles of dirty snow are as lovely as the sweeping dunes of White Sands. Maybe I’ll travel another photographic road.
Where the road leads now I can’t say. A glut of Vespa maintenance tasks await along with a spring cleaning of the garage and reassignment of a snowblower. So any plans may drift in limbo for awhile.
The next ride could be interesting.
Just Ride
Sometimes seeing a sign that says “East” or “West” can trigger a strong desire to just ride into the sunset. (Or sunrise depending on choice). I’ve been itching to put hundreds and hundreds of miles behind me to embrace the cleansing nature of a long ride. The wind slowly dries my brain of the sloshing thoughts that do more to irritate than enlighten and can transform an easy commute into a tedious mental exercise.
“Just ride” has been ringing in my head. My friend Paul has been offering opportunities and plans. Maybe it’s time for the next ride.
Blog be damned for the moment.
The daily post exercise is now concluded.
You made it. Alive and well albeit a bit fried perhaps.
Destination?
Your are at first a photographer and
hence a recorder of what you see, don’t want to see or imagine.
It matters not Steve where you are headed!
To quote others, “the destination is not the reason for the ride,
rather the ride itself is the destination.
That alone summarizes your journals, and your life; daily or otherwise.
There is always a lot of things to ponder. The month of posting raised a lot of questions. Now I need some space to consider answers. Probably will fall back to the once or twice a week postings for awhile. Photography is always whispering in the distance. I’m going to walk in that direction for awhile.
I have enjoyed this experience & it has brightened my mornings while reading the posts with my breakfast. Some of the post have given time of thought & reflection, & there has been some very nice photography to enjoy along the way. Thank you for your efforts over these last 30 days and ? years. I look forward to what you post next. Take Paul up on the extended trip it will be an adventure.
Paul and I will definitely do a trip someday. He’s leaving for Texas and the Big Bend area on Saturday. He’s always trying to get me to go. Italy, India, New Mexico. He’s a traveler!
Thanks for the kind words about the posts. I’m trying to focus what I do a bit. We’ll see what happens.
The allure of the “west” highway sign has always lifted the curtain on journeys waiting to be explored for me. And when it’s time to head home “east” highway sign were always a bit depressing. Why? Mainly because they signal the end of a trip. The end to exciting new discoveries, and new images. Not to say there are not times when I long for home, but I could truly see myself living on the road for most of every year (if I could afford it). While I was not riding a Vespa, or any other brand of scooter, this past summer, coming home from three months on the road, I was both happy and a bit sad. As soon as I walked in the door, and even though greeted by warm hugs and kisses from my wife, secretly I want to turn around and head out again.
Frank, I can understand the feelings about being on the road, wanting to be home and wanting to be back on the road. A wanderlust is in some that just keeps you restless. It’s obvious you suffer from it and it fuels your relentless curiosity on the road and with the camera. I often ask “What would Frank do?” when I’m considering plans myself. You’re on my list of heroes. And mentors. You’ve been generous with your time and expertise far beyond what I deserve.
Have fun in Texas. Keep an eye on Ruby.
Seems to me, this exercise of posting an entry every day for 29 days, would tend to remove the fun out of a blog. I sense evidence of this in your posting for today.
Fun is a loaded word. It was challenging and I enjoy a challenge even though I might be drained at the end. Fun is for waterparks and squirtgun battles. And memories!
But I understand what you’re thinking.
When the destination is valued more than the journey , there’s really no point in taking even the first step.
Unless it’s the bathroom.
Love your scooter, also frame on it. Keep up the posts.
I will!
Hi Steve,
Your a man of journey not destination.
I have been reading your blog way back since LX150 day and your adventure, capturing life along the way as been really inspiring.
Most of the time I found your destination to be a coffee&cake or a yummy breakfast meal 🙂
Kindest regards
Len
I’ve certainly had many food destinations. But right now I am looking at refining the blogging journey a bit, in part to make it easier but mostly to keep it focused in a manner that keeps ME focused. Not sure if I’ll figure that out but I’ll keep at it. I have copious notes…
I’d head west until you run out of dirt then turn north.
Just a suggestion. It worked for me…
That’s how I figured I could find you — west to the end of the road and turn right.
Well whatever you decide Steve, go well, go safe.
Ken
Thanks Ken!
The ability to share your beautiful photographs with eloquent thoughts are certainly a worthy destination to a ride.
Thanks for the kind words.
My blog is “the end” for me, as in I do it because I want to, not to achieve anything beyond a bit of personal satisfaction.
I once chewed on the idea of having a motorcycle blog that I could build into something, some sort of business, whether it just brought in a little bit of money or made me famous and rich. I’m not sure if its still possible to get rich off of a blog, but I’m not going to try. I decided to keep plodding along, making a living as I have been, and enjoying life in fits and spurts, when I can.
I’m really glad you participated in the challenge. 🙂
Oh, and if you ever decide to head south into Virginia, I know a great tour guide.