coachman said: Missed you! Did the sparrow find a landing spot yet???
~
this particular sparrow is still flying around with no place to land. :)
update from the road…
yesterday i made my way from oklahoma to nebraska. i left texas a couple of weeks ago. since then, my dog & i have been living in a motel & my car. i’ve spent most of that time making music with my fella & playing shows with our band. we recorded a live album a couple of nights ago. it was crazy fun & the best crowd.
now i’m visiting friends & taking in live music in omaha - deer tick sunday night! later this summer i’m seeing old crow medicine show & the avett brothers within a week of each other. i might die from the happiness. i’m completely pretending willie watson is going to be back in OCMS before then.
life on the road is pretty interesting so far. it’s beautiful. it’s a little harder than i thought it would be. most things are, though.
i really love & appreciate hearing from people - i’m not ignoring anyone, but my internet availability is unreliable and i can’t figure out how to reply to asks on my phone without them being public. i promise to respond as soon as i can get time on my laptop. i really miss y’all! tumblr is my home away from home… except i’m sort of homeless, so maybe it’s just my home?
in other VERY exciting news, i recently purchased a new banjo. i’ll post pictures of her tomorrow. she is gorgeous - though i’m a little biased.
xo, girlmeetsbanjo
i’m goin’ to wichita - far from this opera forever more, i’m gonna work the straw - make the sweat drip out of every pore…
…salina, i’m as nowhere as i can be, could you add some somewhere to me? ah, kansas, i’m kneeling, ah, kansas, please.
—-
(when a white stripes/avett brothers medley is built right into an exit sign, that’s a reason to take that exit and take a picture, as far as i’m concerned.)
i’ve had ramblin’ fever all along…
dear lovely tumblr people,
i have missed you!!
all of my things are now in storage. i am officially homeless and living on the road.
got my banjo. got my dog. got my summer reading, a suitcase full of clothes, gas in the tank, boots on my feet & lots of options.
feels good. :)
- girlmeetsbanjo
in response to these rails keep gettin’ longer and this feelin’ is gettin’ stronger…
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theoryintransit said: I’ll be hitchhiking around the country in around three weeks. I leave May 7th. I’ll be out and about for 5 or 6 months writing a book. Maybe we’ll run into each other in some kind of random ass happenstance.
girlmeetsbanjo: It wouldn’t be the first time a tumblr connection of mine manifested into something off tumblr. Tumblr has been good to me! :) May you have many good writing days & safe travels!
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kathrynrita said: Inspirational, lady. Makes me want to pack a bag and head out on the open road, with the world at my feet. Hey, maybe I will :]
girlmeetsbanjo: Inspirational? Me?? Why, thank you!! I usually get ‘corruptive’. ;) If you do hit the open road, you let me know which way you’re headed. I’d like to buy you a drink for your kind words. I’m partial to whiskey, but no pressure.
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herestothehalcyon said: Exciting! But I totally understand the terrifying part too. I was in a place two years ago where I could live anywhere I wanted in the Southeast. I ended up picking a good place, but at the time the task was daunting.
girlmeetsbanjo: It’s nice to know it works out for people sometimes. My Mom always says ‘It all works out in the end. If it hasn’t worked out yet, it’s not the end.’ Thanks for your hopeful words! :)
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fritopie said: I dunno— there’s gotta be home somewhere. Somewhere. But it may not be a place. It may be a someone who makes everyplace home.
girlmeetsbanjo: Maybe it’s not somewhere callin’ me, maybe it’s somebody?
hmmmm. interesting.
I like the way you think, sir. I really like the way you think.
these rails keep gettin’ longer and this feelin’ is gettin’ stronger…
in 2 weeks i am moving out of my house and living out of my car for the next three and a half months. it’s really exciting and really fucking terrifying. i’m going to be rambling from place to place, visiting people, seeing some countryside and playing a lot of music and doing a lot of writing.
then, in august, i’m moving for the millionth time… somewhere. texas? nebraska? kentucky? i don’t even know. i could go anywhere at all, really. and part of me wishes i had more anchors. and part of me wishes to have none at all. and i don’t know where my true home is and i don’t know if that means i will never really have one or just that i haven’t found it yet. and if home is where the heart is then my home is fractured across 4 states right now. my life is fractured right now. my heart is fractured right now. but fractures heal. and often a bone is stronger after the healing than it was before the break.
where i want to be is anywhere but here, and i hear the highways calling. my wanderlust is loud. somewhere in there i can hear something else calling, too, but i’ve never been exactly sure from where. maybe i’ll know where home is when there is a place that calls louder than the rest. i don’t know if that will ever happen, but if it does, maybe then i’ll be happy to quit these rambling ways - or at least be happy to learn what it’s like to always return to the same spot on the map because it’s where i belong.
belonging. home. permanence of any kind. maybe that’s something that’s for other people. maybe some of us don’t get to have that.
i don’t know yet.
but life can be beautiful either way, right?
________________________
(p.s. if you recognized the lyrics in the title will you please let me know so we can be friends?)
The lesson we should take away from this is:
• a text message I received today from a wise and dear friend.
He has no beard or banjo, we should not trust him.
Every morning when I look in the mirror, this little scrap of red paper is taped there for me to see:
“Dress suitably in short skirts and strong boots, put your jewels and gold wands in the bank and buy a revolver. Don’t trust to your feminine charms and your capacity for getting on the soft side of men, but take up your responsibilities and be prepared to go your own way, depending for your safety on your own truth, your own courage, and your own common sense.”
• Constance Markieviecz, 19th Century Irish Revolutionary
snarkymcgeesnarks asked: Two, Four, Seven, Nineteen
2. Isabella Rossillini has discovered you hiding in her closet and is now asking you to feel her nipples. How does this make you feel?
Like I must be doing something right if one of the most beautiful women on the planet wants my hands on her! Wait… nope. Worried. It makes no sense. It must be a ploy to keep me there until the police arrive to arrest me for stalking.
4. What’s the most inappropriate thing you’ve ever said to a nun?
the good sister (who I loved): You need to go to confession and be absolved of your sins. You can start tomorrow with a clean conscience.
me: It’s pointless.
the good sister: Asking for forgiveness for a sin or misdeed is never pointless.
me: It is if we both know I’m just gonna do the exact same sin again tomorrow.
7. You’re going on a date with the person of your dreams when, overnight, your face erupts in oozing zits. A strange little man appears and tells you he can take them away for the low, low price of the life of a starving orphan. What do you do?
I’m remarkably vain and shallow! Please see number 8. ;p
19. You now have a superpower of your choice. Score! But you only get to keep it for 24 hours. Bummer! What do you pick?
To know if somebody is lying. I would spend 24 hours calling people and asking them things. And then I’d have to check myself into a psychiatric facility to deal with it all, so maybe not… How about the super power of earth-shatteringly good writing? I’d spend the entire time writing short stories, poems & songs. Or maybe I’d ask for shatteringly-good-super-fast writing super powers and do an entire novel. Yes, that!
i am in lake tahoe for the week.
snow. cabins. adventure.
you know i brought my banjo.
b2w3 ladies - you need to come to here.
may cause insomnia, abnormal dreams, exultation and mild hallucinations.
(sticker on my banjo case)
that’s a whiskey cider in that glass.
it tasted pretty much like fine bourbon and a caramel apple made a baby.
