too much, just enough, and nothing at all

one month on the road and only three days down with food poisoning. not bad, may be the moving is keeping my mind and body cleared, not allowing it to become stagnant. a point of slight regret: not traveling with a gig. i got the ukulele, but one must be really good to be able to entertains anyone with that gentle instrument. gypsies came into the balkans and settled working at dancers, singers and blacksmiths. now they still dance and sing... and beg. but most are begging while acting, or entertaining in some way. one must always be ready to offer something, a story, a smile, an intelligent dialogue, or a drawing when on the road. those travelers who grow bored, tired or claim that 'this place has nothing to offer' are best to be avoided. its easy to catch the mood of others at times when traveling alone, but you find yourself gravitating towards people and places that are best suited to your sensibility at the moment, and the more tuned in one can become with this sense, the smoother and more adventurous ones travels become. i have been developing a discipline of 'the walk', especially essential to big cities. first one must set a simple goal such as: 'find that music show i saw yesterday to play on that amazing pink guitar that i almost decided to buy', or 'find the best burek in town'. second, go for a walk in order to achieve this goal. third, after trying to get to this initial simple goal you will get into a walking groove and either will achieve your goal or not, but you will be able to keep walking for much longer and find may more things you had no idea you were looking for such as: a hedgehog, a rosegarden in a muslim cemetery, a peeling wall, a cat, a view of the sunset sky, a church, a person. its like a walking meditation, but has a much more chaotic structure in cities then in nature, because as a human being, you will be relation, voluntarily or not to the society you happen to be walking through, and you will probably 'not fit in' since you dont have friends or projects here, and that can get you down, but dont let it get you. writing help, especially writing for someone, in a form of a letter even if you never find it. drinking coffee and people watching helps, and drawing of course. im in beograd now, just got here and will be for a few days. then either to romania for a few days to visit friends i met on the road and stay at their place for free (yay) or right down south to macedonia to join ana on the farm. the to greece. i crave nature, hard work and simple life of stability. it will be a vacation from wandering, a temporary place of settlement. the rhythms of the road.

mostar, bosnia

i'm in an amazing hostel in bosnia. i have no digital camera, so here are some pictures. i have to go, my breakfast is getting cold.
http://www.google.ba/images?hl=bs&q=mostar&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=og&sa=N&tab=wi&biw=1152&bih=698

waiting for the sun

I have to skip the day on the road from zagreb to split, hitching across croatia for now and start from last ngiht.
me and my bobbby mcgee playing in my head on repeat for the past few days, until last nights camping. now listening to it in headphone in the cafe by the computer. two nights now we have slept out on the beach. first on a pebbled rock ledge right over the water, overlooking the harbor. last night we walked further away from town, around the peninsula and found another nudist beach sign. as we found out they are bound to be deserted in october - off season here, and the nudists are rarely locals, vis being a conservative christian community. a narrow rocky path wound us around tall blond grasses, flowers, rosemary, pines and low stone walls to a cove overlokking the sea and far mountains, pink and lavender in the coming dusk. the land mer the water with sharp volcanic ledges, going into deep sandy bottom, allowing for a safe descent. on a dry grass stone step we made camp, no tents, just pads and sleeping bags, trashbags pulled over us - the morning sea dew is heavy as rain. a meal of rye bread, sardines, cucumber, nuts, raisins and wine, we quietly watched the dusk in our cove, our ancient pasture hills, the sea and the mountains on the horison. the waves, the crickets and the passing distant motorboat the only sounds. first stars the big dipper. i had nothing better to say than the waves, so i didn't say anything. until the sun went down and the sky multiplied in the thick white milky way from horizon to horizon. total peace, the mumbling and music in my head went completely silent, for the first time in months, sine the fields of vermont. i really had to say nothing, just hear and sit and look. the changing light, the winds, the constant waves and russle of water and grass and rosemary, making a wholesome sense of time. we fell asleep looking at the stars, timeless. i woke up a few times in the night, from chills and troubled dreams,. in the morning i lay curled up, waiting for the sun, watching in graze slowly down the hills towards our still sleeping bodies, until it touched the edge of my sleeping bad i could not move. the sun is so easy to worship to when living from day to night, from cold to warm, from water to draught. the sun brings back warm reality, just when the night visions become too murky. a breakfast of nuts and raisins. i took off all the nights layers and swam in the warm clear water, my body free and open to the sun, with noone else around. we hid our bags in the bushes and headed to town to write, get some coffee, get a little fit of janis and led zepplin while i write this. also to get some sardines, the crow of each banquet, and some local red wine.