Short Thoughts on the Road

We had been driving for the better part of a day
and were now deep north in the state. Around us
were a seemingly endless expanse of forest. Traffic
was nearly non-existent. It was hard to believe this
was the same state, much less the same world. It
was easy to watch the landscape and let your mind
dream. The things you would do on your own or
together with friends. Hiking through and finding
a lake and setting up camp on it's shore for the night.
To live and wander, to move without restriction.
We had to make time. We had to get to the next
city and we had just a few more hours to do it.
Sitting in the back of the van you would listen to
music, drink, get stoned, nap, or some combination
of all of the mentioned activities. As beautiful as
the land is, the hours spent over blacktop could
deaden the soul. We lived for those hours at our
destination, getting out, checking in, and starting
the process of setting up for that evenings show.
The road has a way of bringing out the best and
worst in everyone given enough time.

the grinding of the wheel

I woke into the dream to find myself with Annie
in her room. She was upset. The orientation of the
bed was in a North to South alignment and not an
East to West one. This upset her greatly. Though
the bed orientation didn't please her, it was far
from being the sole reason for her reaction. We
began to talk. I had to be cautious at first. I wasn't
entirely sure what I was getting myself into. She
was lying facing up on one of the beds with a
glassed over look of inevitable defeat. This was
perplexing to me because of the presence she
radiated onstage during her performances. In her
present state she appeared as drained as an empty
bottle of water. The natural beauty that possessed
her was ever present though it reminded me of the
way a cut flower appears after some time in a vase.
It was the tour, the demands of the management,
the constant need to give the audience everything,
and if you saw her perform you could understand
what is meant by everything. The rigor of the road
was a joy that was grinding her down. She didn't
wish to admit it, but it was becoming clear that this
passion was beginning to unravel the parts of her
that needed to be kept under wraps. She couldn't
even remember if it was early or late anymore,
in a way it didn't even matter, in some ways it
was the only thing that mattered.