Emergence | Gift of Artist’s Atelier | Specifically to Complete my eBook in 6 weeks

Update on Carol Keiter the blogger. I do love to post blogs in two’s. This evening I have. I just posted on my digesthis site: this https://digesthis.wordpress.com/2017/05/16/emergence-inevitability-of-seeking-the-kind-way-love-appreciation-of-all-life/

Recently I shared photos on my Facebook wall of the place I suddenly find myself living in, a yurt, indigenous to nomadic people of the Steppes of Central Asia, Mongolia. Here are some pics of the yurt residence in Taos, New Mexico and the surrounding fields.

yurt, residence, Taos, New Mexico

yurt residence in Taos, New Mexico

I also recently came across and shared some photos of a neighboring county in Pennsylvania where I was born and raised. Lancaster and Lititz, PA are each arts and crafty towns surrounded by farms.

carol_taking_photo_lancaster_pa copy

carol_taking_photo_lancaster_pa

The idea of living in the yurt was introduced by a friend from my hometown in PA, 9 months ago when I was arriving to New Mexico after the stint in Tucson, Arizona left me with little recourse but to leave because of not having had success finding work. He knew that his neighbor could be keen on having some people live there to help out with his trees. Indeed he is happy to have the help. The idea back then August, 2016 was to come live in this yurt in Taos, but then I never made it from Santa fe. Two week after I arrived there, I wound up flying back to Pennsylvania to be by my mother’s side when she died the day after I arrived. I was then not sure of where to go, but headed back to Santa Fe where I was gainfully employed for the next 8 months between substitute teaching for the Santa Fe public schools K through 12 and working on weekends and holidays as a ski instructor at SkiSantafe. The paid income was a nice change of pace, the skiing, a delight. I love skiing and the alpine environment. I was grateful every day I was there. However, my slammed schedule meant that I had little time to write blogs, and didn’t even attempt but twice to get back to the book.

Slim savings brought me to this new situation which is sort of another WWOOF (world wide org. of organic farms); a work-exchange involved in caring for baby trees. Pretty cool actually, digging in rich soil, smelling wonderful scents of plants, seeing cows and horses and now in the spring, calves and colts and birds surrounding the fields, calling out all sorts of neat calls. My biggest challenge, has been the chase for electricity and internet. I have become like one of the local ‘off the grid’ backpackers, seeking out places to plug in.

The crystallizing icing-on-the-cake thing, after feeling lots of frustration because the town shuts down really early – and there just aren’t places to go to plug in and connect to the world. My friend just extended the invitation – for a limited time only – until I head back to PA for a memorial for my mother – an atelier. Basically I reside in the yurt, and have been gifted a room in a home nearby as my creation space; with a desk, stool, electricity to plug my power surge protector and a WiFi connection. He has offered this atelier as an artist space > to use it to complete my eBook. “Adora & Vitali: A Spin on the Matter of Moion.

eBook, Carol Keiter, Adora & Vitali A Spin on the Matter of Motion

Adora & Vitali: A Spin on the Matter of Motion

Encouraged to direct my full attention and focus on completing by book; it is my choice if I embrace it and full-on surge into making this happen, or squander the invitation. This is something that I hoped for, and now it is here. I will use it. I was seriously having so much difficulty finding a place to work, that I was starting to become very disconcerted, to put it mildly.

Of course, I’m already side-lined, wanting to quickly post another blog or two, well, that’s okay, it’s to inform people what’s going on and to spread the accountability even further. No excuses. Here’s the platform, the space and time. There are absolutely no distractions in this town for me. Not much of a social happening place, perhaps that may change. No distractions, just lovely nature, tourists, and as in Santa Fe, a fair amount of homeless people here in this dusty, lovely, hippy town with loads of people living off-the-grid who come into town occasionally to fill up; I’ve seen quite a number of very heavily tattooed guys and girls. And as in Santa fe, a large number of pick-up trucks, some that are enormous, and vehicles with windows tinted so dark that you can barely see if someone is in the car. yeah, whatever.

So, step one, open the book and begin look over my google doc regarding marketing, to gather names of Charter Schools to approach them to see if any could be interested in carrying this science-fantasy book. Any hints or suggestions about marketing/publishing an eBook, send them my way. 🙂

Carol Keiter the blogger on return hitch from Taos to Santa Fe, New Mexico

Carol Keiter the blogger on return hitch from Taos to Santa Fe, New Mexico

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Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook & music composition

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hitchabouts abounding – rolling into one another

Several weeks ago I hitched to Taos from Santa Fe several days after the SantafeSki basin closed. Word on that last day by many locals was that Wednesday was going to be a powder day…and the lift tickets for that week only were $20, instead of $90 +. I went, standing there in flurries on this corner holding my skis, poles and boots by my feet. I quickly got a ride the whole way from a man who was doing some business and had done his Trader Joe’s stop etc., heading back to Taos. He and his wife have Taos ski passes. We had plenty to talk about social, political, economic and environmental subjects. My host phoned me to give an update on the meeting point because he was leaving his current location. The call came when the vehicle I was in was within less than a minute from where my host was standing.

The following week I hitched the 90 miles again, to be present for a dinner with my host, a friend from my home town in Pennsylvania whose mother, a friend of my parents, was making her trek across the country to visit several of her kids. I made it just after the cocktail hour and before the Palmyra crew were sitting down at the dinner table. The ride I had that day was with a woman who picked me up at the same corner at the DeVargas Mall. I had just started to dial my host to apologize that perhaps I was not going to make it in time, when this young woman put down the passenger seat window to say she’s driving to Taos. I always have a sign! I would have been on time, if a female police officer hadn’t kept us for 20 minutes after waiting in her car at a speed trap.

I hitched to the peoples climate march, the 1,877 or so miles, and after about 9 rides, leaving 1pm on Wednesday, I made it to the grounds of the event at the Mall in Washington D.C. a bit after the opening speeches had begun. I was among them as we approached the White House to surround it. Although I later learned and saw that the Prez was indeed there, because there was a very long and loud motorcade for the visiting dignitaries…I assumed that this particular weekend he might have chosen to go golfing on a high-rise rooftop in Saudi Arabia with Marine le Pen and Putin. En route, I pretty much barely caught any sleep. The night of the climate march, by the time I’d wandered to the Starbucks at Dupont Circle to plug into electricity and the world, after having taken 300+ photos after the march of all of the signs laid down in a field spelling out words from a mandala, I realized it was too late to phone my friend. Oh yeah, I had to go to Starbucks to look up her number. I thought it was in my phone. I wound up chatting with a guy outside of a bar on this pleasant Friday evening, where all these people flowed out from the club above. They were mostly gay men, of mostly middle eastern decent; Lebanon, Jordan, Palestine, Egypt…I wandered into a different club to dance, and when that ended, asked a man on the street where I could find a place open to eat dinner. A tall, elegant AfroAmerican, we somehow got onto the topic of the award winning deserts he makes, marketing in other countries. He steered me to a restaurant bar where I could find his dessert which was near. I was still in the Dupont Circle area. Not knowing where I’d sleep that night and figuring that I wouldn’t, I wandered to go splurge on dinner. I say splurge, because by virtue of my lifestyle, I rarely have spare money to go ‘out’ to eat. However, turns out that I was given numerous donations along my hitch to D.C. I believe I left with $13.00 in my wallet. By the time I reached D.C. had about $90, and returned with about the same amount I left with. Seems the money went in multiples of $7, each time I’d buy anything.

So I walk into this restaurant at about 5:00 in the morning. It’s packed. I’m seated next to a bustling table of gay men, mostly the Middle East, like a different country represented by each of the six. Turns out the guy next to my elbow was very communicative. We chatted, chattering and and laughing. I had a nice rapport with the waiter, a gay man from Tunisia. He asked after the gang next to me left and I was finishing up my meal if I had anywhere to sleep. I accompanied him just a few blocks away after his shift ended. He was genteel, made sure that his alarm clock was additionally set for when I had to rally to catch a 5:40 pm flight. He was proactive and is kind and a great sense of humor. He explained how I needed to walk back to the metro and catch the train, in case he didn’t get up. I noticed the clean, sleek black sheets as I was leaving the following afternoon. He also articulated the two possible train routes I could take to the Ronald Reagan Natl Airport, in retrospect very helpful, because the Blue line was not functioning on this particular Sunday. I got to the domestic flight with still half an hour to spare.

driving directions from Taos, New Mexico to Tucson, Arizona

Now I’m hitching tomorrow, Friday morning for Tucson. It’s a quarter of the distance of the last, according to google maps about 9 hours. I was asked if I wanted to be among the cast of female producers for this ‘all female producer’ electronic music producer’s open mic sort of thing. It takes place every month at a bar in Tucson called the Flycatcher. I participated in it twice before. I figured yeah, I’ll go 578 miles to play 20 minutes or so, why not?

Pushing Buttons -Monthly Producer Getdown Sat May 6 at 9pm

Pushing Buttons -Monthly Producer Getdown Sat May 6 at 9pm

I flew back to Albuquerque after the march on sort of a standby. I didn’t know how I’d make it back to Taos by 10am the next morning to meet the person driving me to move my stuff from Santa Fe to Taos, but knew I could wake up early and hitch that distance easily. In fact, after having a bit of a rapport with a man sitting right behind me, I then saw him walking together with the man seated across the isle from me and overheard Santa Fe. I asked them, and they were happy to give me a ride that night, right off the plane. We had a very in depth conversation, carried along by my continued questions about the Ba H’ai faith. They were coming from a conference in which the driver is the Santa Fe representative who is eligible to vote for a National member of their ‘clergy’. I will have to talk about that later. I am still on the learning curve of creating music with these programs, though learning short cuts and continually learning by doing, how to use the programs Ableton Live and Propellerhead Reason. I lost the original material of a chunk of songs when that laptop ceased and I couldn’t transfer the content from one to another Software version. I had heard of this before, hadn’t realized until the man informed me that it originated only about 150 years ago in Persia. Ironically, Persia is also the origin of the particular meditation tradition the South African Pediatrician studied originally (a Sufi tradition). He guides a ‘Heart Rhythm’ meditation presently at the Hershey Penn State Medical Center in Hershey, PA.

Interesting, Ba H’ais except and wish to support and respect all religions, they don’t proselytize, they don’t have a hierarchy of clergy with mega bucks holding sermons in mega churches. There are no ‘leaders’ but an elected group who pass things by majority rule. They believe in love, kindness, acceptance and service. They are very Green.

I got that flight back by virtue of walking along the same sidewalk the day before I booked the flight, and running into a guy I’d known years ago in Taos, when he was a customer at the Cafe Tazza where I was employed. We chatted for a while, catching up there on the corner where a man with a stark white long beard and cowboy hat had just ridden across the crosswalk among the midday car traffic. My friend mentioned that he’d give me a call. He did the following day, and I hopped on my bicycle and he met me to donate funds towards my vision, to get to the peoples climate march. He gave me the money, I found a one-way ticket after lots of searches that was guaranteed to leave the day I wanted to leave, but not revealing the time until after it was booked. I hoped it would give me time to get to the airport from D.C. It did.

I came back to move into a yurt so that I can live the life of a starving artist with a roof over my head. I’m not starving either. Although I worked 7 days a week throughout all but the last month of the school year as a substitute teacher booking often 4 and 5 days a week of work and taking weekends and holidays to commit to working as a ski instructor for the local ski basin in Santa Fe, I have barely any money saved; trying to pay off a credit card debt. The yurt residence is not far from the center of town of Taos, New Mexico.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/21261638@N03/albums/72157680301250213

yurt

new residence in a yurt

I have to stop writing now and get onto arranging what I’ll be doing. I just started a new song a week ago involving Penguin calls that sound sort of like horns. I still have more composing and sound editing to do.

In the meantime, I have had two landlords rip me off here in New Mexico, land of enchantment. Astoundingly, after verbal promise to reimburse my security deposit and not cash the check for the rent I paid in advance, which was paid by another woman for the same month and same room, and from whom I received a security deposit, David Michael Carman who owns this property in Santa Fe among others in his residential city of Albuquerque, stole over a thousand dollars from me. Just sayn’. The following landlady, where I had to move in on sudden notice, also itemized the deductions from my security deposit to squeeze as much out of it as she could. What happened to honesty?

Here’s the blog I never got to post about the hitchabout to Taos.

The ride down, actually, up, north to Taos, was flawless. The word had been spreading among all of the locals and employees of Santa Fe Ski Basin on its last opening day of the season, Sunday April 2nd, that the coming Wednesday will be a powder day at Taos Ski Valley, not only open for still another week, but lift tickets reduced to $20.00 from over $90. No brainer.

Ride – hitch to Taos $20 – powder day = fantastic ride > direct to Chris at phenomenally the exact time of his call

I phoned my friend living in Taos from the same hometown in Pennsylvania next to Hershey. He hadn’t planned to ski, but wasn’t on a project at the moment. Sure, he’ll join. It had occurred to me the day before that hitching, I can’t feasibly wait until the day after the storm, because I’d have to leave while it’s still dark. Lift lines open at 9am for the 90 mile drive.

The whole point of a powder day is to be there as the lifts open to get freshies – fresh tracks – before the snow gets chopped up by people skiing moving the snow into little digits and channels and mounds. Virgin powder conditions are like floating. Each tiniest weight shift creating a little arc of a turn. “No Friends On A Powder Day” – No Waiting. No Stopping, for anything.

I walked out prepared with my backpack, sign on the back of my ‘SKI’ sign created on a paper bag which I used all season from the tryouts to be an adult ski instructor with the Santa fe ski school to the work days; hitching up to the Santa Fe ski area. ‘TAOS’ was an easy fit on the back side of the sign.

http://350pacific.org/pacific-climate-warriors/

I chose each place where I lived in town specifically for the ease with which I could hitchhike to the ski area, to access the main roads en route to the only road going up the mountain- Hyde Park Road. People trying out for skiing or snow boarding positions are obliged to attend the training clinics, leading up to the opening of the ski area. Those hired were expected to be bodily present during prime times – winter and spring breaks – I scheduled myself to work weekends. When I wasn’t up at the ski area, I was mountain biking on a lent bicycle throughout the entire Santa Fe district from the previous autumn throughout the winter, working as a substitute teacher for all grades. This for the Santa fe public schools, many of which were located on the periphery of the town. When I still lived in the hills on the way to the ski area, my commutes were for example, 22 to 28 miles round-trip. Once I moved, they were reduced to 15 and less, taking biking trails south through the town district. One can schedule jobs online independently. There was only once that I looked at the snow report for the ski area moments after clicked ‘accept’ this job, when I saw that the there were 6” of new powder. I cancelled the job for the following morning. Being a night person who typically starts preparing dinner after 10pm, that was now my curfew.

April 1st was the send-off party, more than the final day, the 2nd of SkiSantaFe. On the 1st, many locals were in costume, there was a treasure hunt, dj’s on the deck of the mid-mountain Totemoff lodge, and just lots of partying. It kept flurrying as the sun was still visible through this veil of clouds. The following last day, were phenomenal conditions. Fresh untracked powder everywhere. The decision to return to ski at Taos, especially when this inexpensive, was full-on. I phoned my friend in Taos who also had worked at Taos Ski Valley previously (I at the Kinderkaefig and Chris on Ski Patrol). Our paths had crossed that time, each having lived in California at different times and each raised in the same town in Pennsylvania, next to Hershey.

I walked quickly to my starting point, with no place for cars to pull over on the main drag heading north to Taos. With skies propped on my shoulders and poles and ski boots next to me, I stood in the flurries of late afternoon. I felt confident I’d get a ride the 90 miles to Taos. Within about 5 minutes, I heard a beep in the parking lot behind me. Someone driving by who couldn’t stop, turned around. He was coming from business meetings and a Trader Joe’s stop. His non-profit work focuses on the health of people in relationship to their environment in specifically rural areas in the rocky mountain area. For example the planning of land, community spaces, looking at resources such as water in particular and thinking not only about the health and attractiveness of the town but also improvising ways to make the town more attractive, to persuade inhabitants to remain there or return; explaining that there’s been a trend of people magnetically moving towards cities.

The Santa fe ski area had closed on Sunday, with fabulous conditions of fresh powder and sunshine in the morning. It was mild and beautiful and there was no work, just skiing and socializing. I was very happy with each of the different new and newly rediscovered ski routes that I discovered and created. I felt super happy, feeling very happy with my turns.

fantastic return trip after turning down 3 of them, each scarier than the prior. Mr. Bill (with 6 daughters) a climatologist and I had very much information to exchange in conversation.

I found out hitchhiking back from Taos, NM with my ski equipment in tow several weeks ago something alarming and astonishing from the Climatologist who gave me a ride. He had worked for years for the State of California. He said that back in the early ’90s, he was warned numerous times by the state of CA – uh, a progressive state in the USofA – NOT to mention the word Climate Change – at this time I’m sure the dirty word was Global Warming. So, Chump is just a reflection of a much larger horrific state of consciousness lead by the corpocrisy, in which science, truth and actions in defense of what is right, and the words of scientists, are dismissed completely, in the name of profit of the oil oligarchy. So this denial and hushing up of facts, the facts that Al Gore revealed 10 years ago then shown in the movie “An Inconvenient Truth”, have been hushed, denied, kept silent to the public, while we’re distracted again and again by other ‘news’.

Now I just found an article in the Rolling Stone

http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/climate-of-denial-20110622

Bar Harbor, Maine hitchabout via Massachusetts | Plum Island, MA | Acadia Nat’l Park, ME

At the edge of autumn, September 2014, I planned a visit with friends and family in New England in the northeastern United States. I would be hitching from Pennsylvania.

So I googled to get directions, and tweaked them with my sister Barb's route suggestions.

So I googled to get directions, and tweaked them with my sister Barb’s route suggestions. 

opted to follow my sister's suggestion to take route 81 in PA through to 84 in NY

opted to follow my sister’s suggestion to take route 81 in PA through to 84 in NY

 

The reason for my ‘hitchabout’ to Bar Harbor, Maine was to visit family friends who lived in the same hometown, Palmyra, Pennsylvania. Visiting Byrne and Bill Erb was a warm and first class visit with fine homemade meals, lots of art and inspiration. It was a fine introduction to this lovely seaside island town in southeastern Maine and Acadia National Park located on Mt. Desert island.

hitch_description

hitch_description

trip_booklet

The entire trip was in essence; wisdom, positivity, education and enlightenment of the heart from the rides to my stop with my sister in Massachusetts en route and the time visiting with friends in Maine. We worked out the time convenient for my hosts. I was happier to go during the warm days, stoked to go for a swim.

 

One of the rides I had with a woman from Pennsylvania to Massachusetts was mind bending, mind opening that is. I felt that the information exchanged was in itself, worth the trip. She was articulate and educated. It was a 2.5 hour ride with a psychologist turned policy maker at the Veteran Administration hospital region of NJ and part of Manhattan. It was a life-changing interchange. We talked of her work and all that veterans face. She was warm and intelligent. In response to mentioning to her that I’m writing a grant proposal for my book, (which I was about to send) she had much to offer. She explained (as a person who has written several grants and reviewed them) that you must ‘cut to the chase’ in the 1st 3 lines, or you’ll lose them. “They’re sitting on a plane on their way to the meeting with a pile of grants on their lap”. The grant will go to that material demonstrating that the person is finely tuned, showing competency and already demonstrating that they’ve worked through the recesses of their plan.

She made it irrevocably clear that one must be very detailed about the entire process. “Not that you plan to find appropriate translators to translate the text into the other languages…but describe the process of deciding upon them and who the translators are – you’ve identified them already.

She mentioned several times that you’ve got to think of the ‘we’ factor, the village. The more people you bring in, to introduce your material for them to critique and contribute, the more depth this interconnected fiber will be. Certainly it depends on the context of the type of proposal you’re writing. Her savvy lead me to realize that you have to communicate to the grantor as completed of a worked-through plan as possible. She said that if it’s not you, it’s someone else who is going to be deserving. The village factor is in the direction of transparency, the more open-sourced and openness of the plan, the better.

She asked “What do you see yourself doing in 10 years?” Leading me in to recognizing how important it is to clearly delineate one’s plans, if one is going to reach and actualize even a portion of what one sets out to do. She offered the information that those who are successful, often map out in detail – in writing – specifically what they can imagine for themselves. It’s not so important whether it takes place in exactly the way that you imagined these steps to go, just let them fall into place. But aim high. Even if you don’t reach your goal, you’re going to get closer than if you’d done nothing at all.

It was like having a session with a life coach. She offered information for me to contemplate and digest, as mentor or advisor. She chose to direct her questions to subjects that caused me to think differently, see things from a different perspective; which she has encountered in her experience. It was certainly invaluable information for me to be exposed to. She mentioned the gap between vision and reality, that one is continually arching over, as an idea becomes executed. I came out of that ride realizing I have a lot of work ahead of me, and really feeling very grateful for having had this intelligent and genuine conversation with someone who reached out. She also mentioned the value of each of us to reach out to exchange ideas with people who are more successful in whatever it is that you wish to accomplish. These people can act as mentors, and will be happy and honored to share their successes and habits as productive and fulfilled people.

After I was dropped off by her at a rest-stop where I figured I’d be staying for the evening, I went inside to orient myself, borrowing a map in the shop to identify where I was on it.

the woman behind the counter let me take a photo  documenting where i was

the woman behind the counter let me take a photo documenting where i was


The peeps behind the counter at the rest-stop let me do this (open up a map and take a picture of where I was). I had pretty much concluded in my mind that any further rides would probably not be too probable. Yet I approached one man whom I’d seen pass me as he was getting into his car. I mentioned that I was going to a small town on the northeastern tip of Massachusetts. As I was saying this a woman approached the passenger door. I know as a hitchhiker that couples rarely pick up hitchhikers. It turned out that these two were colleagues, not a couple. When she heard me repeat the name Georgetown, she said immediately as she walked to the trunk to move things around, “Put your things in the car”. I asked incredulously, do you KnoW where Georgetown is? He answered, it backs-up to the town we’re going to. It’s literally another small town next to my sister’s town. They were environmental engineers, something I’m very keen on, as a growing environmental activist myself.

I needed to return from the Maine hitchabout to attend the Climate March in New York city the following weekend, September 21st, 2014. Right on! good hitching Karma!

Therefore I was able to make it to stop in Georgetown, about 5 miles from the New Hampshire border. I visited my sister’s home there. She lives close to the Interstate highway 95 that continues into Maine through New Hampshire.

 

They were environmental engineers returning from a conference that day in Philadelphia, PA. Their company purchases thermoplastic pipesthermoplastic composite pipe from manufacturers in Germany and the United States. They talked of these as being much more ‘green’, in that they don’t have seams that can crack with pressure or become unsealed at their joints, risking leaking deleterious toxins. They also spoke of the technique of directing storm water runoffs into pipes channeling the water into the ground where it can be naturally filtered, and out of streams that would be carrying all the toxins and garbage that heavy rain water floods can sweep along with them. Here’s a link from Ohio State University in which the US Environmental Protection Agency further explains the subject; “Stormwater runoff has two major adverse impacts. One is related to quantity. Uncontrolled stormwater runoff entering sewers, lakes, rivers, and streams may cause flooding. Second, stormwater runoff often carries pollutants that may severely impact water quality. These discharges can result in fish kills, the destruction of spawning habitats, loss in aesthetic value, and contamination of drinking water supplies and recreational waterways that can threaten public health (USEPA, 1999).” Let’s not even START to talk about the deleterious effects of the impact of fracking on groundwater. In an article written for the Rolling Stone, “The Big Fracking Bubble: The Scam Behind Aubrey McClendon’s Gas Boom“. Jeff Goodell states that “McClendon dominates America’s supply of natural gas the same way the Tea Party-financing Koch brothers control the nation’s pipelines and refineries.

I offered what I know of a hotel in Taos, New Mexico that treats its own sewage into becoming grey water that is further used on the property. They do this through a system that includes a lovely terrarium type room ‘biolarium‘ where water filters over rocks. The Living Machine, is the “El Monte Sagrado” resort in Taos, New Mexico. The building is a recycling machine; collects rainwater, has energy independent heating and cooling systems, utilizes an ecological treatment of sewage to reuse wastewater, has environmentally friendly water disinfection, composts and re-uses organic waste material, which feeds their onsite food production and use of earth-based building materials.

the biolarium of the  El Monte Sagrado resort in Taos, NM

the biolarium of the El Monte Sagrado resort in Taos, NM

We met my sister at their office, in the next town around midnight. The following day she and I visited Plum Island, a lovely protected wilderness area off the seaside town of Newburyport.

Newburyport, Maine

Newburyport to Plum Island MA

Newburyport to Plum Island MA

Plum Island is a nature reserve that my sister Barbara drove us to where we walked around among tempestuous waters during the high tide and moody skies.

These pictures Plum IslandIMG_0013
IMG_0015 It was at the tail end of our walk that we came upon this fence there.
fence Plum Island

There was a reddish hued sand on the beach. red hued sand Plum Island

Later I took pictures of my sister’s home, particularly her art work displayed in different rooms.

artwork created by Barb Keiter

artwork created by Barb Keiter

Barb Keiter's illustrations

Barb Keiter’s illustrations

and her Hearth with a hand painted cloud mural behind.

Among her painted furniture is this mural painted by Barb Keiter

Among her painted furniture is this mural painted by Barb Keiter

More pictures of the entire trip are here. The shots are chronological;from the beginning of my trip with pictures of the sunset in Pennsylvania

sunset in the Pennsylvania skies on the eve of my departure.

sunset in the Pennsylvania skies on the eve of my departure.

then the trip heading northeast through Pennsylvania via New York state to Massachusetts.

After being dropped off at a rest-stop along I95, I noticed this bus, and wound up riding in it.

my ride through New Hampshire to Bangor, Maine.

my ride through New Hampshire to Bangor, Maine.

The bus is to transport the two piece band, the Hornitz. This was a great ride with the driver of the Hornitz bus, coming from a musical festival where he left the band behind in Massachusettes, and was preparing for an upcoming music festival in Maine.

Bar Harbor hitch sign

the magic bus of the Hornitz

the magic bus of the Hornitz

sketch with ink of shade coming through trees while driving on the bus

sketch with ink of shade coming through trees while driving on the bus

My ultimate destination was to visit family friends from Pennsylvania who now live in Bar Harbor, Maine.

Bar Harbor - Mt. Desert Island - Maine Notheast US

Bar Harbor – Mt. Desert Island – Maine Notheast US

Bar Harbor - Mt. Desert Island - Maine Bay Fundy

Bar Harbor – Mt. Desert Island – Maine Bay Fundy

Bar Harbor - Mt. Desert Island - Maine

Bar Harbor – Mt. Desert Island – Maine

The town of Bar Harbor is located on an island named Mt. Desert.

Mt. Desert Island, Maine

Mt. Desert Island, Maine

I was treated graciously by my friends and hosts with wonderfully prepared meals from breakfast

beautifully prepared scones and fruit

beautifully prepared scones and fruit

to dinner

dinner in Bar Harbor, Maine

dinner in Bar Harbor, Maine

in lovely ambiences.

The protected land of Acadia National Park stretches over most of Mt. Desert Island, of which Bar Harbor is just on one corner.

Here’s a photo of a map of Mt. Desert Island, Maine. Mt. Desert Island

The area was originally inhabited by the Wabanaki people.

Acadia National Park reaches over most of the island, preserving the beauty of the wilderness.

Acadia National Park free shuttles

Acadia National Park offering free shuttles throughout the park.

Here’s a wiki link regarding more details and history of Acadia National Park.


from  the town of Bar Harbor
sandy beach in Acadia Nat'l Park

Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park on Mt. Desert Island

Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park on Mt. Desert Island

rocky cliff Acadia
rock ledges Acadia Natl. Park
water through pines Acadia Natl. Park
rock water  Acadia Natl. Park

 Acadia Natl. Park

Acadia Natl. Park

rock ledges Acadia Natl. Park

rock ledges Acadia Natl. Park

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

geological coolness

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

I swam by this beach, verrrrrryyyy cold water.

scattering from the rocks everywhere I looked were these tiny black spiders sunbathing. I swam by this beach, balancing on the rocks and in verrrrrryyyy cold water, even colder (in September) than the waters by San Francisco.

It was just a great time!

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

Acadia Natl. Park, Maine

more pics of the entire trip as the link above indicated.

Return sign towards Hartford from BarHarbor to Pennsylvania

Return sign towards Hartford from BarHarbor to Pennsylvania

I encountered police en route a number of times. All were pretty chill. The first actually rescued me, after a driver had left me at an inopportune spot at dusk next to the highway. It was along the correct route, but literally in the middle of nowhere along the highway, with the next gas station 10 miles away. Two highway patrol officers helped me out by delivering me to the next restaurant/truckstop. However, they had to handcuff me to do this, because they were driving with an automatic weapon between them and no glass between their passenger and themselves. I was grateful. That’s where I got the excellent ride with the psychologist policy maker. The other time was being transported to a ‘more appropriate location’ a ‘non-private’ gas station, with a cordial and interested police officer. On the way home at an odd place a police officer was alerted to the dangers of stray cats walking into a place late at night, another all night gas station. That’s the one I walked to along this unlit road through a field that was lit by fog rising throughout, before the sun had risen. It could have been spooky, yet it was hauntingly beautiful. Somewhere in Massachusetts, I watched the fog snuggled against a field as the sun rose.

Massachusetts dawn

Massachusetts dawn

Great trip.

New Moon | New Horizons | I had a dream

I almost titled this blog “Now that I blew it, I might as well blow it some more!” which is pretty self defeating itnit?

I’m talking about the last blog that I wrote. Because I just had my expectations raised to a new crescendo, after sending an application for a job as a ‘resident blogger’. They appeared to have perused all around my blogs. However, rather hastily – faster than most German businesses ever contact a person with a followup –  responded with a rejection. Saying, with respect to the FLOOD of people applying for this position, I have not made the cut. It occurred to me, that perhaps proposing a spiritual and economic revolution in the blog I wrote just days prior, might have deterred them.

The other night when i was returning home and perhaps feeling a bit sorry for myself, a young woman was getting off her tricycle with her crutches attached as I arrived at my door. Ahem, so I was quickly reminded to NOT dwell on what I don’t have, but rather on what I do have. A topic I had just written about in a recent blog; sip my own medicine!

The last blog is probably the reason why I was quickly dis missed from this job. A spiritual and particularly economic revolution won’t sit well in the world of internet startups, with a company who wants to crank in money and popularity to sell their product.

That’s what I meant when I said I blew it, might as well blow it some more…I therefore better just concentrate on my book, and go COMPLETELY underground. It might be too late for some of the things that I may have wanted in life, but there’s still time to learn and grow and reap from the benefits of ‘the road less traveled‘.

Below is a description I put together about the dream – two dreams – one while sleeping, one while awake.

dream crowded with robots

dream crowded with robots

The movie I saw years after the earlier ‘waking day dream’ images of virtual reality is “Strange Days“. Reading the headlines a day after posting this, this New York Times article talks about the Google headquarters in Palo Alto, California putting its efforts into producing robots.”Google Puts Money on Robots, Using the Man Behind Android”

So, if Berlin rejects me, I’ll just hone into my own path. Recently one of my sister’s planted the seed of Chopra and Opra’s meditation challenge, on finding one’s real essential self and following this path.

I create my reality

11th meditation Chopra 7 Opra 11/21/2013
I create my reality


The same sister catapulted me into investigating recently the “hippy trail”.

Earlier in the week I posted pictures of a friend’s website that he does with pics from his ultralight back in Taos, New Mexico. His website shows pictures he has taken from his ultralight; Chris Dahl-bredine’s website – pics from the ultralight air craft.

Chris Dahl-bredine flying his ultralight over Taos, New Mexico

Chris Dahl-bredine flying his ultralight over Taos, New Mexico

I had been thinking about Taos a few hours earlier in Berlin, prior to seeing his pics posted on Facebook. These pictures taken by Chris Dahl-bredine are so breathtaking. We knew one another when we both worked for the mountain, Taos Ski Valley in New Mexico. His commitment and years of dedication to learn how to pilot his ultralight, allows him to fly over this gorgeous terrain and make these photographs possible. I walked away from this area and the promise of a lovely, giving person, to now hover in uncertainty, in a quite gritty (at times) part of the world; where I am alone, no dogs, cats, kids, partner…all which i seem to desire now. There are ravenously fabulous aspects of Berlin, that have drawn me back along with thousands of other artists and musicians from all over the globe. Just to be in this cosmopolitan metropolis where one can draw ‘histories’ from the insights of people one crosses paths with is fascinating; lots of stories and history. The choices I have made are what caused me to think about Taos.

desktop Chris Dahl-bredine's photo of El Salto above Taos, New Mexico

desktop Chris Dahl-bredine’s photo of El Salto above Taos, New Mexico

Yet, I would never have discovered Taos, if I hadn’t moved from Pennsylvania, to Washington D.C. and then west to the rockies and high desert and several years later, further west to the chilly Pacific. First stop was San Diego where I better crafted my skateboarding skills and learned to surf, after having skied and snow boarded in the mountains. However, it was later in San Francisco where I gathered momentum to acquire some business acumen and skills towards using the computer as a tool for multimedia. I didn’t leave my heart in San Francisco. My heart seems to pull me further along. I don’t know whether Berlin will welcome me or beckon me to take flight to further discoveries. I may have just nudged myself out of the writing job market with the last blog I uploaded, talking about our need for a spiritual and economic revolution. ‘-)o)

I merely need to focus on gratitude, as most of the messages pouring into my inbox on Thanksgiving Day 2013 are emphasizing, rather than being a ‘hater’ or just feeling dis appointed.

There’s so much beauty in this world, and I have a unique ability of traveling alone and approaching ‘strangers’ by listening and conversing. So if Berlin rejects me, there’s always the possibility of starting to hitchhike around the world.

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/23/opinion/sunday/a-stroll-around-the-world.html?nl=todaysheadlines&emc=edit_th_20131124&_r=5& ‘the

By Carol Keiter the blogger below.

singer Skunk Anansie Clitorally Speaking

singer Skunk Anansie Clitorally Speaking

carol the blogger 2013-12-01 desktop adventure planning

carol the blogger 2013-12-01 desktop adventure planning