Trek 2 Begins

Days of Rest, Friends, Family, and Work

              So much has happened these past few days, it's hard to know where to begin. Commissions have been taking off! I'm about to start working on my fourth one, and couldn't be happier. Anyone else want a drawing done?

              My first commissioner, who had me draw his snake, Chanda, liked it so much he came back to the cafe to buy my prints. He gave me a glowing email detailing how much he liked my drawing style.

"I really love your artistic work, & am proud to now be in possession of a small collection of it (including a custom Commission).  Your perspective on these 'anatomically-correct' Dragons is remarkable.  I see many clever areas where your understanding of real animals such as dogs, cats, horses, lizards, & birds has informed your conceptualization of these mythical creatures.  I also like how you go beyond anatomy & capture the life-force & feelings in the Dragons.  Notions of innocence, playfulness, role-playing, wisdom, patience, & fatigue are evident in your Dragon's rendered dispositions.  You are using the Dragons as a dramatic mechanism to investigate the general sense of life, as living beings encounter each other. 

As you probably already suspect, I realize that the difference between a 'monster' & a 'friend' is almost entirely dependent on the perception of the person considering the status of the subject animal.  Your art achieves the opportunity for the viewer to consider both choices & decide."

              I don't know how to explain the feelings this gives me. I never imagined this much success would fall in my lap so quickly. I may not be a millionaire in cash, but I feel rich. These, plus the other commissions, have given me the confidence and financial standing to continue on my journey. Somehow, my crazy plan is working.

              Spending good  quality time with my friends, Tessa, Croix, and Alex, who put up with me in their living room couch for way too long, was refreshing and re-energizing. Seeing them challenge themselves to achieve their goals has filled me with inspiration. From graduating university, to applying for grad schools, to even auditioning to sing in bands, this group of friends is unstoppable. I wish you guys the best of luck in your upcoming endeavors, and thanks for putting up with this dead fish in your living room for so long.

              I met up with another friend, Ryan, who had been my director for a couple of Orlando Fringe Festival shows, who introduced me to The Artistic Hand, a pottery studio and art gallery. He took me there and I managed to make my very first sculpture (at least since playing with Play-Doh as a kid). Didn't turn out too bad. It felt so good to be surrounded by artists of all levels, working on their craft. I met the studio owner, Del, who was a very generous and kind man. He offered his knowledge, his help, and even some lessons in culture (I learned what Alice's Restaurant was). He even offered to put some of my prints up in his gallery. I can't believe how much support I've received since I began this trip.

              My sister happened to fly down to south Florida for her new job, and we managed to meet up at our parents' for a weekend. Papi picked me up from Orlando so we could all spend a couple of days together the weekend before Thanksgiving. This may very well have served as our own Thanksgiving/Christmas weekend. Who knows where I'll be by then. My sister has been also working on her Etsy shop, where she sells custom painted wooden stools, custom bracelets and necklaces, and other crafty personalized items. She had four orders to fulfill, so we all pitched in, formed an assembly line, and got to work. We were working on four personalized kids' stools, sanding, painting, laughing. My sister then had the brilliant idea that I should draw on some wood cutouts. I would draw them and she would paint them. They turned out great. She is such a good painter. We'll be doing more of this in the coming future, so if you like these, please check out her store: https://www.etsy.com/shop/OffTheTree .

              Since my sister was in town, she brought my nephews in, too. We got to spend some time together and play some games. The main game was pulling the DragonWagon down the hill, with them on it. Papi had used the small wheels we'd disassembled from the original DragonWagon to make a garden wagon for the house. He reassembled the wheels onto a plywood base, and refashioned the handle to its original function. The kids had a blast, and so did I.

              Once I was back in Orlando, it was clear that I was ready to take on the second step of my journey. I was so pumped up for the adventure, I even came up with a logo I hope to soon incorporate in my works. I may even turn it into a business card/letterhead. For now, baby steps.

BEGINNING TREK #2

DAY 1

              I got too comfortable at my friends' place, my stuff was all over the place. I'd spent too much time there, and it took a while to get all my belongings back into the DragonWagon. Their apartment was on the second floor, so this consisted of lugging the wagon down the stairs before loading it up. This took a few steps. Lucky for me, Alex had offered to help me, otherwise I'd really been putting the new wheels to the test. After several trips up and down the stairs, filling up water jugs, toting the rucksack, and gathering the last few things I'd dispersed around their home, I was ready to go. This would be the first time the new DragonWagon would have the full load on it, so it was a real trial-by-fire. After some minor adjustments with the belt harness, and some redistribution of the water jugs, I was all set. I was on my way. I was planning on swinging by the cafe one more time to say goodbye to everyone, so Alex got in his car and went ahead. He slowed his car down as he was passing me, rolled down his window, and asked, "Why do I feel like an asshole right now?" I laughed as he sped away.

              The cafe was only two and a half miles away, and I'd made the trip many times in the days I'd been staying with them. This time was a little different, since I was pulling the DragonWagon along. It was a different feel, a new rhythm. Where the original design had four wheels with moving joints that allowed it to flex, this one had only two wheels and no moving joints. Every push, pull, and jolt translated straight through the structure and to my hips. It did give me more direct control of the wagon, but at the same time presented some more interesting challenges in movement response. After about a mile, though, I fell into rhythm with it, and it was a breeze. The larger wheels were a huge difference in a positive way. I no longer felt all the little bumps and pebbles, and the tiniest obstacles were no longer complete obstructions. Veering off into the grass to dodge on comers was no longer a massive sacrifice. The DragonWagon has evolved.

              I made it to Natura Coffee and Tea in minimal time, and sat down with my friends for one last goodbye. Croix, who was just finishing her shift there, introduced me to a guy at the bar who had recently done a walk of his own. He'd gone from Orlando to Savanah (if I remember correctly), and managed it in 3 weeks. Shit! That's nuts. He said the most he'd walked in a day was 45 miles. That's a bit much... Definitely humbled my amazing achievement of 15 miles in a day... He had also used a wagon, but was doing the trek for an independent study in human nature. Before I could ask more about it, he tended back to his friend at the bar, and the conversation was over. I turned to my own friends, and wondered when would be the next time I'd see them. We've been on so many adventures together that it made me wonder what adventures of their own they were heading into now. Where would we all be if we were to meet again? I have faith we'll cross paths in the future. I'm curious what the circumstances will be.

              We all headed out of the cafe together, and hugged our last goodbye. I went to strap myself into the DragonWagon as we were saying our farewells, a scene fitting to a movie, until I realized the harness was too loose. One of the bolts holding the harness had snapped its head right off. Shit, really? I went less than three miles, I sang the praises of the new structure, we did our epic goodbye scene, and my shit's broken? Great. No, this isn't embarrassing at all. They offered to drive me to Home Depot, offered their help by guarding the wagon while I went, but I declined. This was indicative that the next adventure had begun. What would this trek be without challenges akin to the wheel fiascos of the first one? I assured them I'd be fine, that I would make it to the nearest Home Depot on my own. After spending so much time in their home, I couldn't help but feel that I'd become an imposition, despite their claims to the contrary. It was time I became my own burden once more. I turned the DragonWagon around, and started clumsily pushing it ahead of myself.

              The journey to the Home Depot was an interesting one, wrought with minor challenges. The main challenge, of course, was finding the best ways of pushing or pulling the wagon. Pushing it meant micromanaging its direction. The slightest veering to one side or the other meant running into bushes, falling off the path, or unintentionally scaring on comers out of the way. Pulling it meant the constant occurrence of the larger wheels catching the heel of my feet and pulling off the back of my shoes (in middle school we used to call this, "giving someone a 'flat tire.'" Irony).

              After a few miles, I'd reached the Home Depot, with only minimally sore arms and scraped heels. I hid the DragonWagon in the bushes behind the store and locked it up. Completely inconspicuous. I was hoping to get stronger bolts to replace the broken one, and have a back up or two for when the second bolt would inevitably snap, but they didn't carry them. I was hoping for grade 8 bolts, but they only carried grade 5, which was what the original ones were. This didn't help much. I bought 8 of them for good measure, and hoped I'd reach an Ace Hardware along the way. I grabbed some dinner at a nearby Chipotle and ate it outside a Buffalo Wild Wing that offered free wifi, as I communicated to my family that I was heading out and spending the night outside a Home Depot.

              I replaced the bolt to the harness, set up my camp in the bushes, and tucked in for an early night. There was a light "pitter-patter" on my tent walls as I drifted to sleep to the sounds of traffic nearby.

Day 2

              I broke down camp in the morning, and headed out. The Home Depot had been in the opposite direction than my destination, so I was retracing my steps from the previous afternoon, only this time the DragonWagon wasn't biting at my heels. I looked back at my tarp I'd used at night to cover the tent, and saw that it was dripping a surprising amount of water. So much for the "pitter-patter." I glanced back a couple of times to see it still draining in the first couple of miles. I found it slightly odd, but my attention was quickly diverted as the skies split open to let the Niagara Falls come down.

              This is what I'd been simultaneously dreading and hoping for all at once. I dreaded the rain because I didn't know just how waterproof the wagon was, with my laptop and drawings inside, but I welcomed it at the same time, because I love the rain. The downpour was so sudden and so intense, that whatever shortcomings the wagon had with being waterproof, there was no turning back now. With this resolution I could bathe in the glory of the downfall with no regrets, and I loved it. A big truck hit a puddle at the shoulder of the road with the perfect timing to shower me completely, and I found it hilarious. What a great feeling of release. Freedom. It was gross road water, sure, but it was instantly washed away by the broken dam in the sky.

              Then came the familiar abruptness of reality behind me. It hadn't yet been three miles from the Home Depot by the time the brand new bolt I'd replaced bent and gradually snapped, bending the other bolt which then took the full weight of the wagon. It would soon snap, too, but it was surprising it hadn't already. I easily removed the broken one, but couldn't fit its replacement in the same hole, since the other remaining one was bent, skewing the holes. Keep in mind, the skies are still torn open, and there is a constant flow of water falling. It was easier to see without my glasses at this point, which is really saying something. I ended up stripping two bolts trying to fit them into the skewed holes before I figured out I should loosen the bent one. This was no easy task, since the bend was at the most inconvenient spot. Don't forget that rain. I finally get the bent bolt loose, get the new bolt in the skewed hole, and tighten the bent bolt back. The raining continued to fall as I set off again. It was only a half mile before the bent bolt snapped, and I fought to replace it. This time I had the common sense (and prior knowledge) to loosen the other bolt before trying to fit the new one in. Genius. I made my way again through the rain, still enjoying its splendor.

              By the time I'd finally reached an Ace Hardware, the two last bolts had loosened and bent, and I was doing the best I could holding the parts together to take the stress off the hardware. The rain was kind enough to keep me company all the way through. I got the new, stronger bolts, and enthusiastically replaced the inferior ones. I purchased a few replacements for possible future complications.

              There was a Popeye's in the same plaza as the Ace, and as I passed by I saw chickens roaming their parking lot, pecking at the ground. If only you knew, chickens, if only you knew. I continued up the street, and realized I'd reached Oviedo. I was only a few steps away from my destination, The Artistic Hand. I was going there to drop off those prints Del said he could put in his gallery, and be on my way up to Deland. I reached his studio, and presented my prints, but they were not up to par.

              I'd never sold anything in a gallery before, so I was a little oblivious to any common practices in doing so. I figured it would be as easy as putting them up in Natura, a couple of tacks to hold them up and a price tag with a title. This was not the case here. I was slightly embarrassed when Del showed me the other artists' works, with hard backings and framed in matting, all in a slick plastic sleeve fit to size. This was a professional gallery after all, and my presentation would be below standard, not to mention the dangers of customers handling said prints, and potentially damaging them.

              After some failed attempts at trying to matt the prints on my own, I decided to try a picture framing store I'd passed on the way to Ace. I set out as the sun began to set and the rain began to let up. By the time I got there, however, they'd been closed for thirty minutes. Damn. They would open again at 10:15am. What a specific time to open... Okay, no problem. I decided to stop by the Popeye's for some quick dinner, and wondered about those chickens again. I wondered if they knew what they were pecking at on the ground around the restaurant. I headed back to the Artistic Hand to glaze the little sculpture I'd made when Ryan brought me. When I got there, Ryan and his girlfriend were there, working on their projects. We worked until around 9 until it was well past time for me to set up my camp for the night. I'd completely violated my "always set up camp before nightfall" rule.

              I took the DragonWagon back to an empty lot I'd found on the way back from Popeye's and tried to sleep to the deafening sounds of water pellets constantly pounding the tent all night. I missed the "pitter-patter."

Day 3

              The rain continued through to the morning, and presented a new challenge to breaking camp. I had to do it all under the tarp, lest I pack puddles of water with my tent, soak my sleeping bag, and saturate my belongings with dampness. It took some real mental power of will to get out of the warm sleeping bag, and start the process of packing everything up while crouched under the tarp. The real motivation I had was the lull in the rain intensity that gave me the best chance to keep everything relatively dry. Being so close to the ground, I got a good view of the load on the wagon, and noticed that the water jug by the tarp was empty. I hadn't used any of them yet, so I was surprised. I looked closer and realized that it didn't even have water to the level of the spigot, it was completely empty. Even if the tap had accidentally been pressed, there would at least be a little bit left. I turned it over and found a gash on the bottom. Then it dawned on me. When I'd noticed the tarp dripping a suspicious amount after a mere "pitter-patter" night rain, it wasn't the tarp dripping, it was the water jug leaking. At some point when one of my awesome bolt breakdowns happened, this water jug must have taken some damage. Add it to the list. Thankfully I had three other ones.

              I managed to break down the camp, packed it all under the tarp, and strapped it all down. That's when I realized it was only 5am. I had 5 hours to kill before the picture frame place opened, and the rain was pouring. I decided to walk around Oviedo and take in the sights. This proved to be very difficult, however, since every sidewalk I took came to an abrupt end, and there were few to no bicycle lanes to speak of. That little adventure killed about 30 minutes. I went back to the Ace Hardware where I remembered seeing a bench under an overhang. I spent some time there, watching the chickens at the Popeye's dodge the rain. I watched the darkness of night melt away as the sun rose somewhere behind the rain clouds. I felt the temperature drop drastically. It got cold, and the cold was sharp. The wind picked up. I'm no meteorologist, but sunrise should add some heat to the equation, not have the opposite effect. I demanded a refund on this sunrise.

              Sitting still was no longer an option, so I paced the plaza. I had my raincoat on, but that did nothing for my soaked legs. I realized in these moments that I'd prepared for heat, I'd prepared for cold, and I'd prepared for wet, but I had not prepared for cold and wet. This was a problem. Luckily, the Ace Hardware opens early, and they sell rain suits. I got the heavy duty one. I combined the pants with the coat I was already wearing, and all was good with the world. My pacing was working to maintain a good body temperature with the rain suit bottoms. Crisis averted.

              Around 8:30 I finally decided to head out and find some breakfast. Along the plaza overhang I saw a man sitting on another one of the benches. He asked me what I was pulling, and I told him it was a wagon with my camping gear. We engaged in conversation, but I felt bad because I could barely understand him. I gathered his name was Alfonso, and after I explained my journey to him, he told me that if I'm in town on the first, I should "hit a brotha up." We shook hands and I set off into the rain.

              Across the street from the framing store I was waiting for was a breakfast place, so my decision was an easy one. I chained up the DragonWagon to the bicycle stand outside one of their windows, and got a table facing it. A happy looking couple in the booth across from me asked how far I was going, where I was coming from, etc. We exchanged a couple of pleasantries as another family sat in the opposite table. After looking around the restaurant and noticing all the chicken themed stickers and paintings, and recalling all the chickens I'd seen outside the Popeye's, I asked the couple about them. "Oh, the Oviedo chickens have ALWAYS been here," was as far as the explanation went. Fair enough. Just then a particularly fuzzy-looking white chicken strutted by my window. Point received.

              I took my time with my breakfast, since I was killing time for the store to open and it was still cold out, so the couple was finished and gone halfway through my meal. They wished me well on my travels. A man from the family next to me asked me what I was eating, a country fried steak breakfast, which I highly recommended to him. Unfortunately they'd already ordered, "but there's always another day," he mused. I continued to eat, and just as they were leaving, the same man asked me "is that your rig out there?" pointing at the DragonWagon. I said yes and we engaged in what was now becoming somewhat routine for me, where to, how far, etc. Just as I expected him to ask the next predictable question, however, he caught me off guard, "can I pay for your breakfast?" I was a little speechless. I hadn't expected that at all. I stammered some awkward response, and he took my receipt up to the front with a "good luck on your journey." Thank you family man, the end of that breakfast tasted especially good.

              The store never opened. There were no signs saying they'd be closed the day before Thanksgiving, but they indeed remained closed past their 10:15am time posted. After 10:45 I decided it wasn't worth the wait. It was too cold to stick around waiting for an "if," so I set off. I would have to matt my prints later down the road, outside of holiday time, and ship them to the Artistic Hand. I needed to keep moving to beat the cold.

              At this point I began to have trust issues with sidewalks, because they end so suddenly and abruptly sometimes, that they leave you in some cumbersome predicaments. This was one of those times. As I maneuvered onto the road I had to stop as two police cars raced past, lights and sirens blaring. I looked down the road as they stopped only about a half mile away. I managed to get on the road as a fire truck and an ambulance went to the same location. A few minutes later I arrived on the scene, where a car had skidded into a power line pole, snapping it in half. The ambulance had already left when I passed by. I asked one of the officers if I could be of any help, already knowing the answer. He told me to move along, and to mind the cables in case they happen to come down. I hoped everyone was okay, and thankful I wasn't there as it happened. Although if I had been, maybe I could have helped. Who knows...

              The rain continued to drizzle, and I realized what an inconvenience this was to the act of drawing. I hadn't been able to draw anything the past few days, and that really bummed me out. I was getting the itch.

              Several miles down the road I reached a McDonald's with free wifi. I went inside with laptop and chargers, and got to writing this post. Just as I'd gotten in, though, the clouds parted and the sun came out. Thanks for the timing, irony. I spent a couple of hours with my six-piece nuggets, really milking my sweet tea, writing my blog. The sun started to set, and I cut it short, unable to post it online, lest I lose the light to find a decent camp site to set up in. I figured I'd post it the next day, early in the morning. I remembered passing by an open field with some tree clusters about a mile back, so off I went.

              The field had a couple of concrete patches that may at one point have been roads of some sort, completely decrepit by now. I found a smooth patch behind a few trees, and set up camp. It had just turned dark as I finished setting up, and down went the temperature. I got under the tarp quickly, hoping to dodge the cold, but, slowly, it crept in under the tarp overnight. This was the coldest it had been. If I had to guess, and hopefully not exaggerate, it may have been in the 40's or 30's. It was enough cold that my brain jolted me awake a couple of times, screaming, "DANGER! DANGER!" It didn't help that the sleeping bag I was using was slightly damp from all the rain, and that I'd set up on the cold concrete. I finally decided, in my half asleep daze, that it was time to pull out the cold weather sleeping bag, which also turned out to be wet. I'd been using it as a pillow in its bag, so I switched them, using the warm weather sleeping bag as the pillow instead. Again, my brain alerted me mid-sleep that this was insufficient. I eventually snuggled myself with both sleeping bags, the cold weather one inside the warm weather one, and passed out. When I woke up at one point in the night, I realized my body heat had dried them from the inside out, and I was nice and toasty. I slept well after that.