Still on the Edge in Sumas

6:26 pm: Have to write this down. See if it disappears like the last one a week ago. Today I brought up a used refrigerator that Pat helped me find in Whatcom County. Not that large, but even a countertop height fridge weighs a bit. So I'm here by myself, I rigged up a ramp out of scrap lumber to give me something to roll the hand truck on. No straps on fridge, nothing to hold the wood down, and I didn't measure the door even. Turns out the door was wide enough--so long as I open the door ALL THE WAY. I opened it about 90 degrees and the fridge hit the door. But here's the part I can't get over. As I'm dragging the fridge up the ramp, in the rain, with my shoes loosing traction on the wood (It must've been a 7' ramp but the floor of the bus is pretty high) and in about a nanosecond its going to dawn on me that I can't do it alone. A train is going by and there's a car waiting at the crossing. Just then this guy gets out and comes running over, all eager. What a fuck'n moment for a stranger to reach out and help me!!! In less than a minute we'd pushed the thing up into the bus, pushed the door open enough to get it through, and had it in...then he'd already turned around and headed back to his car. All I could say was "You're awesome!"

Now at the risk of making to much of this--what does that do to my faith in humanity? Or is it just Canadians?
I mean you gotta have faith, right? Without faith--I mean if you KNEW what was up with the universe then there'd be no point in wonering, indeed there'd be no wonder. There'd be no point in differentiating ourselves from a monkey, nor from a machine for that matter.

Gawd that ramp was steep.

I love talking to myself. I can't do it usually but up here its like second nature, by myself but with company, me. Up here I can be as crazy as everyone else. The isolation may be bad for you, but at least the two of us get along.

Everyone else crazy? Did I mention our neighbors K and D who think the yellowjackets are leaving you alone if you only get stung three times? What about DL, the skitzo hero who told me he'd smash out every window of the bus if I painted it? The nice lady next door who collects and stores just about everything and leaves the back of the house vacant to give the cat a place to shit?
Sadie the dog gets more fun out of her pong than any kid does with a Play Station. One puppy treat fits inside and she's go to go for an hour. What a great companion she is. She makes me smile without even trying.
Sure would be nice to finish painting the bus, but alas--the weather. I've got a photoshop rendering just like I did for the other side, but this one really doesn't do my idea justice. That's why I haven't posted it here. But trust me, the goddess is beautiful, and her son is Chaos personified. It'll have to exist in my mind alone for now, and in the mean time I'll hopefully get some progress done on the propane system, and the wood stove. Its cold out there tonight. Advance apologies for poetry:

to the WORD

Words sound while seagulls cry and words collide on rainy streets while at home,
Grown words spill over one another, impacting like craters.
Spilled conversation washes over lovers' arms mingled like wet vines,
Reeds in a flood of spoken word play.
Words play over me like children at recess, hop scotching across the earth
At light speed daring me to keep up, let alone
Chase them to bed at the end of the day.
But words lie awake at night they don't say their prayers,
Instead at the end of word play words cry like orcas mourning the morning that isn't here yet.
Words can't await the dawn; words are the dawn.
In the day, in the bay, in the sky, words of change arrive to sweep clean
Yesterday's tangled webs.
Words tumble and crowd like rushhour passengers, shards of glass,
Or diamond sparkled beach sand. Words can blanket you in their density,
Comfort in their cheer, entertain, exhaust, or stab your throat like Dracula.
Words give life its layers; bombs are the opposite of words.

Hoping for a visit to B.C. and the bus tomorrow; looks like the weather will be a minor hindrance from here on through Spring. So it goes. Still pondering what to paint on the driver's side of the bus. Since I've named her Trinity, I wanted to incorporate three aspects of divinity that speak to me. Don't think I've mentioned that here before. Mother, Son, and...the Word. The Word is I'm not sure what, maybe the Devil, maybe our own Humanity, maybe sheer artspeak gibberish. The other two are clear enough at least to me. Mother refers to the ground beneath us, mother to us all--giver of life. The Son isn't Jesus at all; Jesus and I have an understanding you could say, but I see him more as prophet and peacemaker, not so much a god--even if he approached the divine more than anybody else in Western culture. No, the Son is more about the other fundamental force in the universe--that being Chaos. Taken together, THIS is the trinity that amazes, amuses, and sustains me. So it goes.

No other photos yet, since I haven't been able to paint a stroke since Friday the 15th. Today I'm off to rip a small refridgerator out of an old camper shell. Should be fun!