Monday February 18 2013


☼ ○ ▬

Anthony and I are making a movie that’s based on a novel. I just finished reading the novel. I go to sleep and have a dream centered on the story. All the locations and interactions were so vivid. A busy little convenient store equipped with a deli and stocked with all kinds of marked down products. An Indian man named Dannie owns it and lives on the property as well. With Darren, Anthony, and Kelley inside the shop snooping around. Anthony tries to bargain with Dannie about buying a bundle of apples for only $13. I wake up and describe the dream to Anthony as we’re riding in the back of a 15-passenger van. We come across a huge crowd chanting somebody’s name in front of a church. It’s becoming harder and harder to hear my own voice from all the noise and I’m frustrated that Anthony can’t hear me.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

James and I hit the road. We meet up at Leslie’s house. She just got done with her babysitting job and didn’t pack yet. Waiting inside her house while she gathers her things.  

Leslie: “The more people that are around me the more frantic I am.”

Now we’re off. All packed into James’ car. James at the wheel, I in the passenger seat, and Leslie cooped up in the backseat. I deejay the trip with iPod in hand. 


Leslie: “Do you feel bad for slugs?”

Me: “No.”

James: “Never.”

Me: “I don’t ever think about slugs. I think they enjoy their life. They live in the moment.”

James: “Why would you feel bad for slugs?”

Leslie continues in her matter of fact voice, “Cause they pretty much don’t fit in anywhere. And they’re tragically, tragically allergic to salt and everybody knows about it. They are pretty much the world’s outcast. They do not belong on land. If they did then they should do one of two things like all of their other relatives on land: they should either have a shell or they should turn into something prettier than die within two weeks of turning into that prettier thing. But instead, they’re just wet. And they just splooge around. They look like they belong in the sea.”


Lentil Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Water.

A few stops here and there.

Banana. Chocolate Bar with Hazelnuts.

As we’re traversing along the rolling hills and farmhouse landscapes of US-58 Leslie spouts out, “I wanna live out here.” A few minutes later we’re greeted to a picturesque sunset. Orange and pink colored embers light up the evening sky. Jolie Holland’s warm voice on the stereo facilitating the reverent and tender mood...

I’m feeling so haunted...

I feel tender in return. Thinking about the memories embedded in these roads from past drives dating back to my youth and un-jaded romantic years.

Sweet & Spicy Pecans.

After a six-hour drive from Virginia Beach we finally arrive in Blacksburg, a rugged college mountain town. I’ve been here before. We meet up with Becca at a pub called The London Underground.

Hanging around at the bar. Leslie and I share a Cheese Pizza with Mushrooms, Banana Peppers, and Tomatoes as toppings. Sipping on a pint of Yuengling. It’s good to see Becca. She introduces us to Kai, a new guy friend of hers.

Afterwards, we all hop into Becca’s car, James, Leslie, and I cramped in the backseat with a pile of blankets. Kai and Becca know a special spot down by the river directly underneath a mountain. We drive up and over and down and under until we locate the scenic spot. James finds a few more rusty bottle caps to add to his collection. It’s gotta be in the mid-30’s outside with gusts of cold wind.

After 2 a.m. we’re taken to a cozy house next door to a white church. Three friendly cats roam about. The three of us settle down in a small room heated by a convection heater and where the floor is not leveled.

Sleep sometime around 3 a.m.

[i] Rolling Hills Sunrise. Image by Leslie.

[ii] All other images by me.

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