The Sustainable Vagabond Tales. Maui, Chapter One

Aloha, and Mahalo for stopping by. This part of the story takes place over the course of three weeks, in which time I've landed on Maui, achieved some basis of bearing, and begun to soak in the marinade of the chapter; my first WWOOFing experience. Proceeding text may eschew continuity for the sake of adventure - but events are truer than my heart's path to truth, that is to say, redundantly true. Maui has captured my heart, invigorated my mind, set fire to my passions, and allowed me the disconnect from distraction I'd needed as the path to truth unfolds. Each day is a completely new adventure, and there is never a dull moment as I carve my beliefs and character. Moments are decisions.

To begin with, I packed too much. I always do that out of a personality trait to be prepared for all situations (Sun Tzu has noted "when without resources, depend on resourcefulness....") I even brought a hand ax to Maui... I need to get better with that. Packing light is essential to the the vagabond - which I have taken to quite well, I must say. Kerouac would be proud; though my true Gemini showing itself; one part being here now, the other asking if we're there yet and if we'll need a hand ax when we get there.

It was a Tuesday when I arrived. I wasn't tired really, nor had the in-flight Jack altered my perception beyond removing the edge of throttled tin can claustrophobia. I was ready, poised and salivating. Put me in the game coach, I need to get my hands on the ball. Marta Greenleaf was at the curb shortly after I got my gear; a rucksack, my Chrome rolltop daybag, my bike in box, and a duffle. In retrospect, too much "stuff," not enough clothes. More on that later, as I digress... Conversational casualties ensued as we drove to Whole Foods for a delivery and some supplies. As we approached the 2 acre family farm (up a very well-to-do "Neighborhood Watch" street), Marta pointed out my new living quarters from the road. It felt somehow comfortable in the sense of a long lost memory returned. The other wwoofers, both named Katie, were done with chores and off the farm, so I spent the rest of the day setting myself up. I'm sorry to report I haven't been able to hang my hammock. Sadly, there is just no viable place for it on the farm... plus, how am I supposed to bring a lady back to the hammock? So I broke down and bought a $30 tent from WalMart.

I'd be sleeping in the fabric fortress, under a kukui nut tree, on a farm overlooking lavender fields. The ocean and sunset would set the background.



That night, we had a group dinner. The two Katies, a visiting friend Gary, Marta, and myself. Bill Greenleaf was on the mainland. We all worked so harmoniously together with ingredients plucked from the backyard. It felt close and intimate, though I'd only just arrived, and we all shared prep, cook, and eventual cleaning duties. A patio setting and the brilliant stars above flavored the meal with imagination. As smoke passed around and we'd all sated our organic tastes, I couldn't think of anything more than, "Wow, this is incredible. I must be dreaming."

Oddly enough I have dreamed less since I've been here, or so I thought initially. I'd always kind of felt gypped that my dreams weren't so surreal, memorable, or lucid. Friends have told me tales of infinity, returning to dream worlds, and interaction within their dreams, but mine were typically bland-ish. Until now. My waking life is so vivid, synced, and interactive that it seems like I'm in a lucid waking dream currently. With humbleness, I'm living a dream, but it didn't come from thin air. Be true, be positive, follow your heart, and good things will happen.Who's to say what is real and what is a dream, anyway? I can't help but to follow signs of opportunity and my path to Love. I'm tapped in, take my hand and we can share The connection.

Farm duties are from 8am until noon, M-F, except for Thursday when Marta and I practice yoga, then we'll start at 9am. Daily chores include taking care of the chickens (feeding, watering, and gathering eggs - my chore specifically), pruning trees, weeding, shoveling manure, composting, laying irrigation, and occasionally in the evening laying seedlings, as the coolness helps a good start. There are somewhere around 50 varieties of fruit, vegetable, bean/grain, and herb combined. We have an outdoor shower where, I've discovered, a rainbow visits me each journey I take, sometimes double! I haven't showered indoors since I've been here. Creative mosaic stones pave the way to cleanliness, and a steam room adjacent. I'm probably cleaner here than I was back home, (despite the dirt, horseshit, and compost) and have taken to wearing nothing but a salt rub for deodorant. Body pheromones are so real, I love it and so should you. Down with western ideals of cleanliness! Its a facade to sell you chemicals and proliferate social control. You have the power to free your mind.

Where was I? Ah yes, farm duties.



Each Friday is Harvest Day, so we search for, pick, and prepare all the goodies for CSA boxes. That's a chill day, and for the most part, in the shade. I have acquired an authentic "farmer's tan," but by the process of naked sunbathing, I'm working on evening it out.

Beyond my obligations of 20 hours work/trade on the farm, I have a plethora of time to do as I please, and while I've only been here 3 weeks, I have seen quite a bit of the island. Each city on Maui has its own vibe and culture. Paia Town is my local hippie beach town (fitting, I know) with new age boutiques, restaurants and cafes, 70s California transplants and their groms, brahs in trucks, a yoga studio, the homeless beach kats, a surf and bike shop, and a very cool bead shop. An interesting social stratus that I feel annica, or transient, through. Some days I'll don Thoreauian qualities, sitting within the sand, pensive and solitary, staring out unto the vast oceanic horizon, perhaps reading a book or writing with a little snack bindle. One weekend, I rented a white Econo van and drove around sleeping where I adventured. Iao Valley, Kihei, Lahaina, wherever... This weekend I rented an AWD Subaru Impreza and drove northwest, cutting through canyons, searching for the perfect picnic spot. No, not this bluff, a little further. Ya, sunset will be perfect here. I pulled the e-brake with a cool grin, and drifted around a pebbly unpaved cliff road with a new friend, Kaitra. Then the next day back to hitch hiking, chillin on the beach with the tanned and dready kats, to chief the pakololo, seek out the next hidden waterfall, and ride the wind. Last night I ordered a latte after Woody Harrelson, then minutes later at a local pub, unknowingly asked Owen Wilson what movie he'd just seen as I sipped my Maui brewed Bikini Blond and he a fine glass of red wine... classy. So the social stratus has an interesting flow to it. I feel cleaner and more polished than the beach bums, but I'm not quite one of the normal societal types. And I like it. Even amongst the wwoofing community, I feel bohemian. I'm carving Atom.

The weekend prior, three wwoofers and I took a weekend trip out to Hana and O'heo Gorge. Katie, who just left Greenleaf Farm to go onward in travels; Jeremy, a 22 year old who reminds me incredibly of Mr. Dana; and Tristan, an inquisitive Berkeley vagabond type. The views were spectacular, the banana bread was fresh, and the experience was incredible. I have now been around the entire island. We explored caverns via an underwater passage, climbed rock lava, and had lunch on the black sand beach.




more pics on Picasa

How different my Monday through Friday routine is now... yet still a routine. For now, I'm happy learning the basics, and being in the zen of the moment on this small farm, but there will come a time when I'll branch to other opportunities. Portland, Seattle, Santa Fe/Taos, Austin, Mississippi, India, Austrailia, New Zealand, and Northern California are all completely possible, yet when the time comes to pull the trigger, I'll know which gun to aim. Until then, I'm riding the wind with Mercurian strength.

And the story continues. Each day brings new opportunities and experiences. Who knows where or when I'll land. Fears wash away as I gaze into infinity.

Go bananas

Almost ready...

Travelin Harmonica

Only kinda sounds coming outta this harmonica, are travelin adventure sounds.

Making it happen.

Somewhere around thirty five thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean, I hurtle through the troposphere in a winged tin can. Between pauses, I draw from the Jack and Coke sitting on the tray table next to me. Luckily, the flight wasn't entirely full, so I have 2 seats to spread out.

The last few weeks have been surreal, as if walking the path through a lucid dream. I can touch, see, smell, feel, and hear all that surrounds me in vivid stereo reality, and I interact with it thoroughly. I'm feeling more comfortable than usual in my travel scenario, and I begin to step into the role unfolding before me. Traveler, journeyman, bohemian, nomad, beacon of inspiration, leader, gypsy, pirate, and truthfully bare, a tree-hugging-hippie. The Jack has a way of easing my nerves, as I'm throttling hundreds of miles an hour towards Maui to begin a journey of epic proportions.

For the next five months I will be traveling around Hawaii, island hopping, working on organic farms, learning the ins and outs of what it takes to run a small farm, riding my Surly LHT, beach camping, writing, reading (in the queue; Ishmael, The Omnivore's Dilemma, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, and Lucid Dreaming in 30 Days), making new friends, surfing, meeting ladies, and soaking in the realness of the earth. My path to truth is in its genesis, and it's really happening because I'm making it happen.

I'm beyond excited, but I must remember this is not solely a vacation. It is first and foremost a journey of research. Yes, I could have just as easily chosen Ohio, or BFE Kansas to apprentice on a farm…. but I didn't. I'm gunna go kick it on Maui for five months.


Two weeks ago seemed to be the heart of surreality. Burning Man 2010: Metropolis. This would be the third time I'd burned, but the first time I'd stayed in the outskirts, or, first-com-first-serve area. The suburbs were nice, in that it provided a refuge from the majority of commotion. I forget what Burning Man means until I'm on the near approach. Memories flood back, and I screech with excitement the closer we get, or more appropriately, the further we delve into the desert sphere. Art cars, gifted food, open and friendly conversation with complete strangers, fire, glowing shit, climbing, art installations, costuming, over 900 acres of interactive experiences, and the possibilities become endless. For me, Burning Man reinvigorates my zest for the unusual, and recharges my creative batteries. "Welcome Home" means welcome back to the place where you can be ultimately yourself - the choice is yours. The pirate circus carnival dreamscape, as I've come to understand it. This year was especially significant for me, because I feel like I really stepped outside my usual realm of comfort. Elliott and I stayed on the edge of the city, and did what we pleased. He did his thing, and I did mine. It was an excellent unison and we'd occasionally setting out for the evening to go separate ways. We are truly kindred spirits, and our interaction was incredibly organic.

Day 1: Arrive 5am, set up, get acquainted. Brewski, head over to burrito place - Meet chafed titty mama (to which a song was written). Evening, sit on the playa and trip out. Feeling really good. Elliott tells me, "You're doing good in life." I'm extremely honored because I often look up to him.
Day 2: Wandering with El & Molly. 2 rounds of mushrooms, 500 foot horizon spanning floating balloons, Nexus, fireballs, and a random street corner bus stop.
Day 3: Prom - wore a pretty dress. Wish I had pics - it was seriously sexy. CarBQue at Gigsville
Day 4: Stack 600 lb wooden spheres on top of each other with Wizzard, who, after assembling our statue, disappeared right into the desert, seemingly birthed by Zeus himself. Evening donned Santa, start partying at Laughing Monkey, feel out of place, wander to Ridazz Camp and eventually meetup with Crespin, Dave, and Rambod. Take copious random drugs. Climb things. Hold hands with strangers, watching the sunrise and walk into it. No sleep for the wicked.
Day 5: Pack and depart. Drive home, bathe in a river, back into reality.

13 hours later, I'm back at the homestead to pack my life up, and begin my WWOOFing experience. As a last hurrah, I had a going away party, and it was a phenomenal success. Matt grilled up amazing barbecue, we got a keg (which was tapped rather early), and there were more people at my house than I was expecting. It made me incredibly happy to see all my friends come out to celebrate and be with me in the last hours of my Los Angeles experience. Lots of riders. It was cool to see so many bikes lined up on the fence.


On top of that, Pregnant Minds wrapped up that very same day, and it has come to full fruition. We only had enough for 18 copies, but the end result is seriously legit. Each contributor will get a copy. Andrew and I are already brainstorming on PM2.0 and there is some excellent potential for possible investing and future issues. Pregnant Minds is the tangibility of ideas.

I got a new tattoo on my wrist. A Nordic Rune stone; Dagaz. It was perfectly fitting; "In each life there comes at least on moment which, if recognized and and seized, transforms the course of that life forever. Rely, therefore, on radical trust, even though the moment may call for you to leap, empty-handed, into the void. With this Rune, your Warrior Nature reveals itself."

So I'm about to land in Maui. The unknown awaits, and I will keep updating.


**Update** After day 1, I'm never leaving this place. Work is from 8-12, otherwise, I can do as I please. We all made a group meal last night of delicious whole foods. Kale & yacon salad, quinoa & tomatoes, home brewed guacamole, a beer, and to top it off a bowl from the owner of the farm. I slept under the stars last night because I've been having trouble finding a place to hang my hammock. The stars are breathtaking. I think I'll go into Kahului today and get a small one man tent for the time being, until I put up the geodome. It is all very exciting.

I live in a tent under a tree on a farm with an ocean view. It's so unreal, but I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunities I have been fortunate enough to activate.

more to come.

Transitory Allegory

Life is upon me, and I'm at the brink of a huge change in my life. I'm packing things up, selling furniture and crap, solidifying plans and getting ready for a great big adventure of the near future.

Burning Man is in 3 weeks, and I leave for Maui in 5 weeks. While I've been to Burning Man before, this will certainly be a great trip. I'm not staying with the Ridazz this year (though I'll definitely be visiting for alleycat races, boozin & shmoozin), instead setting up shop in the first-come first-serve area. I feel like it will be a nice retreat, if necessary, from the onslaught of constant noise that may stem from theme camp areas. Mike has been helping me sew a cap for my dome, and my good chum Elliott will be taking his virgin plunge into the dreamscape of Black Rock City. He's excited, but I'm excited for him! haha. We've got solar refrigeration, excellent shade, hammocks, all the necessary provisions, and open minds.

Bits of truth start filling in like an hour glass. At first its empty, but over time, particles of reality begin to fill my mind. Take your eyes away for a few moments, and the glass is half full. My dad just got home after 9 months out of town and me house sitting, so I've had to acclimatize myself to living with someone else, more importantly, the homeowner and my pops. I gave away my wonderfully comfortable bed to my brother to take to school, so now I'm bedless... soon to be a nomad, so to speak. I just realized I won't be spending Thanksgiving, Christmas or New Years with my family, and I say that as a point of fact, rather than nervous anticipation. Just bits of reality falling into place.

Its as if I've walked this path before. I feel impassioned with purpose and a deep calling to be closer to the Earth. Things seem familiar, yet each day is new and exciting. This could also be my highly romanticized projection of living off the land based on literature, movies, and my own imagination, and I know it will be hard and strenuous work, but there's really no going back. I will never work in a cubicle again. We only have one life to live, and once you've traveled 20 years down a path, there's really no chance for starting over.

I really love the myriad of jobs I'm able to participate in here and there, and I've never been happier "un"employed. I recently went up to Yosemite to brand a Green Home Supply store, and had an excellent river hiking adventure in combo. I'll be going back up there often. I painted a mural, made window signage, business cards, banners, and website (soon to come), and in exchange made cash, and got this sick new 175watt solar panel. Here is a tidbit of the last portion of the wall painting I did.



Things are progressing very well, and before I know it, I'll be getting on a plane headed for the Pacific. I'm in a transitional phase of my life right now, but the more I think about it, isn't life a constant transition?

love love love flows through me.

American Psychosis

I had to share this article in Adbusters because it is so eloquently written and expresses a very significant reason I seek sustainability. Inspiration and motivation find me as I seek them out.

What happens to a society that cannot distinguish between reality and illusion?


Full Article

The virtues that sustain a nation-state and build community, from honesty to self-sacrifice to transparency to sharing, are ridiculed each night on television as rubes stupid enough to cling to this antiquated behavior are voted off reality shows. Fellow competitors for prize money and a chance for fleeting fame, cheered on by millions of viewers, elect to “disappear” the unwanted. In the final credits of the reality show America’s Next Top Model, a picture of the woman expelled during the episode vanishes from the group portrait on the screen. Those cast aside become, at least to the television audience, nonpersons. Celebrities that can no longer generate publicity, good or bad, vanish. Life, these shows persistently teach, is a brutal world of unadulterated competition and a constant quest for notoriety and attention.

...As the pressure mounts, as the despair and desperation reach into larger and larger segments of the populace, the mechanisms of corporate and government control are being bolstered to prevent civil unrest and instability. The emergence of the corporate state always means the emergence of the security state. This is why the Bush White House pushed through the Patriot Act (and its renewal), the suspension of habeas corpus, the practice of “extraordinary rendition,” warrantless wiretapping on American citizens and the refusal to ensure free and fair elections with verifiable ballot-counting. The motive behind these measures is not to fight terrorism or to bolster national security. It is to seize and maintain internal control. It is about controlling us.

...America is sinking under trillions in debt it can never repay and stays afloat by frantically selling about $2 billion in Treasury bonds a day to the Chinese...Its infrastructure is crumbling. Deficits are pushing individual states to bankruptcy and forcing the closure of everything from schools to parks. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, which have squandered trillions of dollars, appear endless. There are 50 million Americans in real poverty and tens of millions of Americans in a category called “near poverty.” One in eight Americans – and one in four children – depend on food stamps to eat. And yet, in the midst of it all, we continue to be a country consumed by happy talk and happy thoughts. We continue to embrace the illusion of inevitable progress, personal success and rising prosperity. Reality is not considered an impediment to desire.

...The more we retreat from the culture at large the more room we will have to carve out lives of meaning, the more we will be able to wall off the flood of illusions disseminated by mass culture and the more we will retain sanity in an insane world. The goal will become the ability to endure.

Chris Hedges, a Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter for the New York Times, is the author of several books including the best sellers War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning and Empire of Illusion: The End of Literacy and the Triumph of Spectacle.

The average American watches 153 hours of TV per month - blog.nielsen.com

That's 5 hours a day.
Working a standard 40 hour work week, when would anyone have the time for family and love and music and art and literature? If the time spent on actually watching TV weren't enough just zoning out, it is also taking time away from passions and larger pursuits. Gag me with the spoon that feed meals made of oppression and control.

The corporatocracy and mass media (TV, internet, radio, magazines, pro sports) are veils of deception intended to cover our eyes from the truth.

A Spontaneous Half Dome Trip

My two wheeled confessional

I cried on my bicycle riding home on Sunday. My love, my heart, my comforting rhythm of zen and balance; my dojo of a steel framed womb listened to me sans judgment.

This is my bicycle. There are many others like it, but this one is mine. My bike is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my bike is useless. Without my bike, I am useless. I must ride my bicycle true and keep it tuned. I must ride faster and more focused to strengthen my agility and endurance. I will. Before God, I swear this creed: my bicycle and myself are defenders of liberty, we are the masters of our destiny, we are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is peace. Amen.

It was a good expulsion, an involuntary reaction when just thinking through things wasn't enough. I don't crave much, but I wouldn't be sane without my bikes.

It may have been the music I was listening to,
the beers I had consumed earlier that day,
the informal semi-rekindling of a once hearty friendship, or
a combination of many things, but

Every now and then, I have the urge to purge.
It comes suddenly and sharply.
One time I was in the mall...that was awkward.
My emotions have been running high lately,
Due, in part, to the incredibly vast unknown future I am about to embark upon.
I feel alone, scared, excited, overwhelmed, joyful,
and as a last resort with no one specific to vent to,
it all has to go somewhere.
This drain leads to the ocean...
It wasn't laughter, it wasn't flatulence, it wasn't hunger or thirst (at least not food related), as those too are the reaction of a build up.
It was the pinnacle of a full bodied answer to extinguish mental, physical, and spiritual fatigue as a last resort, Hail Mary, reset to default, jump start.

I'm not afraid to admit that I weep.
More often than not it's out of joy, but this was no such time.
I cried for the Earth and its suffering.
I cried for my family and my friends and
Cried for oppression in the name of material gain, and

...I cried for myself. Sometimes I forget to acknowledge this, but it was abundantly clear it needed to happen this time. As I pedaled my steed homeward, I half sobbed, half screamed inquisitions as though no one existed. I questioned my motives, brought forth fear and doubt, and wasn't really looking for an answer, mucous and saliva stretching from teeth to tongue as I unleashed myself into the confessional night.

It felt good. However,

There is a part of me that longs deeply for a uniquely special connection, and I'm often afraid this will never happen. Doomed to watch others in happiness as an observer, as I continue to travel on my path to sustainability. What good will this be if I cannot share love I feel so vividly within me? Perhaps the organics of my journey will reveal a similarly organic love...

Judge me not, I'm only human. Thank God for bicycles.

Art Direction and Design from the Ground Up.

It is well past my bedtime (who am I kidding, I go to bed when I want) and I am excited with progress. I'd thought my own website would be on the backburner till I finished other projects, but I had a burst of energy and a vision. So I decided to start slow and low at first and gradually work up to a roar. It's simple for now, but suffices well beyond a blank page that screams, "I don't have my shit together, but please consider me professional anyway."

Without further ado:
AtomFarm
& the full folio for your convenience
AtomFarm Book

Yesssssss...

________


Last week, I went camping on the beach with my friend Jordan. Our sandy sea quarters were less than two hours from my house at Point Mugu, but it managed to take us the entire day to get there. We were 10 miles away when his brakes went out, literally smoking, and rather than let it sit, we got it towed to a mechanic near my house, reloaded the gear into my car, and drove back out to the beach, set up camp, and got the lay of the land. I brought out one of my deep cycle batteries and mini fridge for ultimate beer cooling and testing the system. That night, we witnessed a spectacular dance of nature I've never seen before. Microscopic dinoflagellates produce natural bioluminescence (like Avatar!!) and glow an unreal blue when disturbed as though nature had puked a rave in the breakwater. We hadn't even taken the psilocybin yet. The stars were clear, and it was magic. I even used a really cool free App called "Planets" on my iPhone to track the constellations. Technology.... woOOooOOoOOOooOoO
The next morning we woke for breakfast (I love camping and waking with the sun), had a snap of fudge and crossed under a drainage wash towards the mountains to peer into our minds. I always have chalk with me for just such occasions. We ended up at a fork in the road, paused for a moment and eventually took the path where a brown hare had suddenly appeared. Further down the rabbit hole we went! It was a gloomy morning, but by mid-day it, the sun was doing what it does best. We were off the beaten path, hiking at the top of a ridge, coastal wind on our now shirtless and sweat drenched bodies, shit eating grins on our faces, and it was a Wednesday. There were very brief moments of questioning a u-turn to get back on the "trail," but I'm glad we followed our instincts and pressed on. When we got back to camp, the rest of the fudge was split, we played some Bocce Ball with intermittent giggles and sat on the smooth rock beach where we had admired the ocean the night prior. Dolphins and bay seals entertained us for the afternoon, while we gave ourselves foot massages by rock and I felt a balance of nature and human that was so vividly real, it reassures my upcoming journey of harmony. I made rock sculptures and discussed the finer qualities of being a rock with said rock, and I came to a conclusion. Its not the rock that changed, just my perception of it. Like "there is no spoon" from the Matrix. Can this be carried over into other parts of life? "There is no obstacle" is essentially what I got from it, and yes, it can be carried over. If you want something bad enough, there is no obstacle.

I want freedom, and I am taking the steps to make it a more permanent lifestyle, rather than doling out my liberty into two (and sometimes) three day segments from a benevolent boss. I made final commitments with the farm in Maui last night, and there are many things growing, not necessarily exactly as planned, but full of possibility none the less. One of my newest clients is a filmmaker, and I might trade some services with him for a film of my own. Who knows? Rhetorically speaking, of course; I'm not concerned with knowing. I'm having a rather excellent time on the ride as it is.

How could I forget?! Freedom? Independence?! Happy 4th of July to the truly independent.

Speaking of rides and freedom, I've been riding my Surly much more frequently. When I ride the hipster bike, it just feels weird now. I still use it, but more casually, and discernibly (quick local trips). Anyway, I've been riding the bikes much more, because I figure, I talk the talk, I should walk the walk (ride the ride?). So I rode to my Sunday farmers' market which makes me incredibly happy to begin with, but being on my bike, with the wind in my face, coffee in hand and organic foods in my panniers... man, I'm getting into it. I like sustainability and farming and independence and communing with nature and people. Nay, I love it.

Totally forgot I was on bike when I bought the watermelon, but with the bags and rack, I figured it out. I got:

• watermelon
• 1Doz eggs
• Half flat of strawberries
• peaches and a nectarine
• Yukon gold potatoes and yellow onions
• corn
• bok choy and a head of lettuce
  
• cherries

And not a single egg broke. I even helped a man on the way home with directions and gave him a strawberry. Good day, and cheers.