Wednesday, February 21, 2018

I am not moving to Joshua Tree. Yet.

I'm not moving to Joshua Tree. Not yet. I told some people that I probably was. Maybe I will. Later.

I found a third of an acre for sale one block from town. A short walk to the visitor center on Park Road. In the middle of the small amount of activity that exists along the strip along CA-62 to the north of the park. I drove to Joshua Tree to set my feet on that land, and I was ready to pay $5000 to put my name on it. It was sold before I got there.

I would be happy to throw money away as a questionable investment or speculation on that little piece of land. I was ready to buy that land, and park the biggest, cheapest, oldest, ugliest bus I could find right in the middle. I was ready to build a short cinder block wall around that bus. I was fully prepared to slowly accumulate dead sewing machines, and cement them atop the perimeter of the wall. I was excited to paint the bus in long horizontal stripes of white and lime green. I was ready to cut a hole in the roof of the bus, and raise the roof by three feet. Roof deck for sunrise and sunset and viewing of stars.

I was ready to throw down.

I stayed in town for a few days. I recognized the magic. I also felt the ongoing internal struggle inside of my mind, and my chest, and my body, and my universe. I was lonely, and I was cold. I was not ready.

I still would have paid $5000 for that lot. I was ready to put my name on it and wait. I was not ready to settle for second best. You can pay more for land that is a little bit further away. I drove around and got the lay of the land. If something pops up in the future, I am ready to spring.

I want my bus, and my freedom to sculpt a whimsical hideaway. There is time. I am open to every option in the world. For now I will continue to save my money and wait. There are infinite dreams to distract us. I hope I can settle on one some day.

What are my options? Will you join me?

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