How to Travel at Home

There are many travel blogs out there . . .

A lot of them will tell you about what it’s like to walk off a plane into some remote culture. The bliss that comes with eating fresh coconut on a beautiful beach in the Caribbean. You will read these things, and you will feel jealous. Wanderlust, itchy-feet, maybe you will relish their experience because it brings you back. Continue reading

The Scariest Part of Traveling, Part II

I don’t know which is scarier, the idea of ending my travels or saying goodbye…

The art of leaving. It takes a delicate touch saying goodbye.

People will tell you about the multitude of cultures that have no way of saying goodbye, as if it means leaving doesn’t exist to them. But it does. Leaving is human nature. And sometimes human nature is difficult. Human history has been one long practice in leaving.

It only takes one breath.

Two syllables.

Goodbye

I’ve become almost too accustomed to leaving. Saying goodbye. That’s what travel can do to a person. First it hurt. Deep, deep down it hurt to say, to leave. The hurt came from the immersion into impermanence it is to travel. Leaving a place is the acceptance of a different presence, one void of the familiarity one knows. Leaving might mean forever. That’s a long time. And that’s scary. Continue reading

Crowd Sourced Capers

A pithy confession . . .

I don’t read blogs. It is a medium I often don’t find myself drawn to. That is part of the reason for the insistence that this is not a travel blog. The reason my colleague and I started this website was in order to create an open, accessible space for all to discuss the deeper elements of travel. In addition it is very self-serving. It is a place where M. A. Chavez and myself can publish our own original thoughts while developing a voice within this popular medium that is blogging.

I normally write spoken word poetry, incisive observations of our society, and may have been caught in the somewhat obsessive attempt to use the written word to portray that which I’ve seen. I’m outspoken. Hence why I get on a stage with a mic and yell my feelings at an audience.

This is where M. A. Chavez and myself diverge. He is a refined artist, a wordworker, purveyor of prose. yes, he does contribute pieces to this website, but he also spends months developing story lines, characters, and themes. At a rather young age (something I am not at liberty to divulge) he has one novel manuscript completed, and the impressive beginnings of a second, in addition to multiple short stories, poetry, and essays. Where I admittedly crave the snaps, claps, and cheers of the stage, he has little desire for that. His fulfillment lies in the months of work it can take to describe one scene.

In short; he’s a recluse, and I’m a shameless exhibitionist.

This is why I will be the one making the journey to New York City on a one way ticket this week. The goal of this trip–albeit a rather audacious goal–is to make contacts in the literary world to work on publishing M. A. Chavez’s debut novel. Do I know anyone in the publishing world? No. That’s the reason I’m making the literal literary pilgrimage to one of the Meccas of publishing in the United States. Also, I want to eat some really good pizza.

This will be my first time to New York City. I find it funny because everyone has an opinion about the place, even if they’ve never been. They all have some advice for me while I’m there, but they don’t actually know the first thing about it. Maybe because of the amount of traveling I’ve done I am going into this trip with very few preconceptions. I know the city is big, really big. But so were Tokyo and Mexico City. And really, I’m a human, a lot of things are bigger then me. It’s less the city that intimidates me, and more the idea of finding someone, one out of millions, that wants to publish my literary partner’s work. I have spent much time watching the development of M. A. Chavez’s characters and stories. If a character is a writer’s child they almost feel like my god-children, or even nieces and nephews. It’s important to me to see the stories spread to a broad audience, but honestly the man is a hopeless hermit. That’s where I come in.

Of course, that is not the only thing I will do in the city. I plan to visit friends, attend spoken word events, and learn more about the city I’ve heard so much about. Then who know where I’ll head, I have more then enough friends along the East Coast and curiosity to support the endeavor. Who knows, if NYC doesn’t work maybe I’ll try the publishing microcosm that is Boston.

 

Now, let’s try something. We have a good amount of loyal readers, and plenty of folks who have stumbled across this website in the past. And I would wager that more then one of you knows someone involved in the publishing industry. So, I am going to ask if you have enjoyed the work of M. A. Chavez and myself thus far, and would like to see a wonderful writer become a published author, that you share this post with your social circle. Let’s see if we can crowd-source a debut novel for M. A. Chavez. I think that would be pretty cool, and that I would have a lot more free time to explore the Big Apple.

All I’m asking for is a novel, or at the very least a good slice of pizza.

 


Jack Dawkins

is a spoken word artist and writer who has been traveling North America for the last five years. He has worked as a tour manager, ride operator, caretaker, and salmon canner, along with attending some college and many different social/environmental justice summits, conferences, and camps.

       Do you have any suggestions for Jack while he’s in NYC or want to show him around your city? Know anybody that might be able to help with publishing?

Let us know what you think: Leave us a comment, connect with us on Twitter (@VagrantAnon), Instagram (@VagrantAnonymous), or email us at VagrantAnonymous@gmail.com.

The Scariest Part of Traveling

is the thought of not traveling anymore…

After enough time, it becomes a companion, friend, family. Traveling. So, in a way, to stop traveling would be to lose a loved one. And when you’ve traveled primarily alone, like myself, you’re not only losing a loved one, but the only one that knows what you’ve been through. The only one that has been there through it all. The good and the bad. It loves you unconditionally, never asking too much of you or to be anything other then yourself.

It encourages you. Lifts you up. Teaches you to be strong and carefully nudges you in the direction you should be going. In this relationship you learn who you are. Your needs, wants, and desires. You learn your limits.

People come and go. Live and die of their own accord. But travel only dies when you neglect it. Continue reading