Oh the freedom, the joy, the awe. Nothing so spectacular as to come and go as you please. We spent the last two weeks running around for Matt's brothers wedding. Camping at Waitts Lake, WA and enjoying family time. I dug up some smooth gray clay to use for facials and first aid. Picked and dried red clover, plantain, dandelion, mint and rasberry leaves for tea. Yummm.
 
We drove from Spokane to The Dalles, OR yesterday. It was around 101 degrees in the bus. So the kids were mellow, hehe. We stopped in Umatilla at this sweet little park and went swimming in the river. Kind of shocking how socially divided that area is. The river was lined with mexicans fishing for Trout under the shady canopy, while all the white but not indigenous locals were probably in safeway looking for a box of cereal under fluorescent lights. Olivia emerged triumphant from under the murky water with what looked like a tangled up gummy worm on a string. She took a stick and tied that old piece of fishing line to it. It still had the lure and hook attached. Of course, she'll never get a fish. (I'm thinking this as a matter of fact and not anything I actually say to her)
A couple fishing next to us chuckled at her audacity. The breeze was warm, the trees huge and shady. The river cool and beautiful. I go up to the bus and start dinner. The kids stay with Matt at the boat launch.

Ten minutes later Olivia runs up to the door "Mama, mama I got a fish!" She hold open a plastic sack. The fish is still alive. Colorful, gasping for its own air. The couple that was fishing next to us gave her a big shiny trout.

The obstacles really don't matter. Proceed with a childs audacity and the end results appear in ways you could have never planned. Life is beautiful and in this moment we are eternally beautiful too.

Matt says "How can we be eternally beautiful if we're only in this moment?"

Because this moment is eternal. . .

PS. My new favorite band of the moment is Air. It's good music to make stuff to. Check them out.

     Hey all you non-conformists! Let me  convince you conformity is merely an idea pushed by mass media- conformity really only exists in things like commercials and font sizes. In defining yourself as a non-conformist you really just make a reactionary statement giving credit to those institutions whose ideals you are attempting to rebel against:

     I went on a lovely walk today down to the local market. A 50 something store clerk in uniform caught me smelling a bottle of peppermint castile soap. He asked:

     "Is there anything I can help you find?"

     "No, but I really love the new health food section here. You have five different kinds of organic wine for under ten dollars. Organic shade grown coffee and local raw honey. That's great."

     "Yeah, I started working here about six months ago. You know, I ride my bike to work 6 miles  every day. We  put in this health food section and buy bio-degradable plastic bags now." He enthusiastically added "If there's anything you guys ever need, or are looking for, you can ask the store manager and he'll get it for you."

One thing led to another. We spoke about bio-diesel, gas prices, community, health, etc. . .

The clerk got a little twinkle in his eye. He started talking shyly about not eating or buying corn syrup- for your health. . . but also because we vote with our dollars. He adjusted his glasses a little, and invited me to walk up to the check out counter. He pulled out an old grocery sack, ripping it into pieces.

He wrote down some information on it for me to look into; I did the same for him. Little ink scribblings. A map of information leading to gateways, leading to entire treasure trunks of mind opening information.

My point is this:

Independently thinking people are everywhere. When I met this checker, I wasn't at a hippie new wave convention. I was at a locally owned grocery store in a christian, republican suburb. The butcher I spoke with on the phone last month who wants to make 25,000 gallons of biodiesel from his wastes. . .illegaly in a pit- he lives in a conservative populous agricultural area. Theres no such thing as the average American Joe, I am convinced. "The Average Joe" exists only in the ideals of mass media, in the font sizes and gmo vegetables.

It's easy to get pissed when you watch the news, make assumptions about crowds, let media get to you. But when you go out into the world and talk with the local butcher, baker or candlestick maker. . .you (generally) find amazing people doing the best they can with what they have. And the best I can do to affect them is to let them know there are other people out there who want things to be better too. (they don't have to feel like the black sheep just for wanting things to make  sense) There are even a ton of other people out there DOING things to make it better. Even if it's just being friendly enough to talk with a stranger.

So here's a quick mental list that is in no way exhaustive of some of the people I've run into in our travels who are doing something to make our world neighborhood a little better:

Bob- who is a professional at spreading shameless fun,Donna- who raises goats in Bisbee and sings about it ,Carolyn- for envisioning positive change
The Renaissance House-giving hope to those who need it, Noah- spreading smiles through performance while living green and gently.
Frejya- the smartest gal I've ever met. Converted her bus to veggie oil, sews and sells her own clothes, forages, walks on stilts and makes money doing it all.
Marley-It's OK to be a sexy man, and gentle at the same time.(thanks for the wild licorice fern roots)
Katie Grey and the veg. oil tour bus- fearless and beautiful
The folks from Lolo hot springs festival- see above
Ben, Jeremy, Ryan, Feather, John in the Cascades, Ann, Erin and Terrance and Alden, John at Barneys Super Market, Elicia at Fresh Abundance, Adam, Aiko and Justin and Mariko,
Dave- refusing to buy new, refusing to do anything that doesn't make sense
Steve out in the desert, The Pickathon Music Festival locally powered biodiesel stage,
My mother- who now gardens organically, raises her own chicken eggs, bought a hybrid vehicle (all in high heels), Natalie who got her office to start a recycling program, Diane Gibby and Tera who introduced us to solar power, among many other things, the city of missoula for planning so wisely; John's sister, Ann, who taught me to seal jars with beeswax(thereby re-using the lids), Marlee Mountain who taught me about the personalities of the forest (otherwise known as wild edibles), Jonathan Fournier and crew from the film school who attempted to walk across the country, Ken and Paula who lived in a bus and now live in a boat out there somewhere, the beautiful and strong women of Hot Springs, MT who are brave enough to see past differences for the sake of community, the folks in Eugene, OR who share streetside gardens with those in need, The twelve tribes commune in Nelson, BC- they are proving anyone can live together peacefully with the earth, Cedar in Santa Cruz for refusing to be un-enthusiastic, Jezebel and Jill in Santa Rosa for refusing to play by the rules, John in CDA who is letting new growth happen- opening himself up to a new way of thinking, Susie- who so selflessly loves, Patrick the Fishermen for catching the biggest stories and dreaming for the stars "so if you trip, you won't skin yer nose." And Ruthie who "visualizes the end result, not the obstacles". And Pearl who makes sure Ruthie doesn't trip over any while she's visualizing.Even Captain Bob who doesn't ever buy plastic bags.

 

So,you see. . .The Pink Bus isn't just us. We all journey together, learn from each other, share our experiences. That's what keeps The Pink Bus going. . .well, pretty shiny things really help, too.

See you at the Sagle Swap This weekend!

 

B 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's springtime and the powers that be are cleaning out the old to make room for the new. I feel the west wind blowing and the fresh buds growing. There is nothing I can think of that smells more heavenly than a cottonwood grove in spring. The buds produce a red sappy resin that smells. . .well, sweet and swampy all at once. But- like a clean swamp- think poplars and sunshine and pollywogs. Not alligators and murky water.

Summers around the corner and the festival circuit has begun. What's really wonderful about the festivals is everybody is pretty much set on having a good time. This generally dispels fear and anxiety, so even the biggest catastrophies work out in the end: Liz found her purple underwear lying on the road, the wallet was mailed back, and the young lion found friends in unexpected places. If you think Jesus' trick with the loaves of bread was cool. . .you shoulda seen June and I in the bus with this pot of chili. We came up with around sixty meals from what started out as nothing.

To me, Family means people who accept each other and help each other out, no matter what the situation. And when you realize that we're all family, things get beautiful. Instantaneously. Sometimes all it takes is slowing down to acknowledge the other persons beingness. Try it on the person at checkout line in any store. It's amazing what a real slow, deliberate smile can do. I tell ya, it can create more energy in an entire room than those powdered vitamin drinks can make in one little cup. Whatever we focus on expands. That's why it is so important to visualize the end results and not the obstacles.

I realize many of us already think this way. So when I hear somebody else talk like people and what they do matters, it solidifies what I already know. But many people are just going around and around in their own mind, in their own space, their own world. It's truly easier to just ignore them- and focus on my own little happy world. Tell ya what though- to witness somebody get their entire idea of reality rocked by recieving love, hospitality acceptance from a stranger is pretty cool. I'm not talking hippy missionaries here. Just being courageous enough to let go of what you think is acceptable, redefine each moment as it happens and allow yourself to experience the bliss that is simply being. It transforms people from a gray, passive non-present energy to the most beautiful, colorful conscious alive beings.  

Auntie Pearl sums it up the best: Shameless Fun. Ruthie says "if you can't take it, take a nap."

So. . .beautiful journeys to everyone in this strange little electronic land. We miss you Bob.

Becca

 

a picture of real superheroes in action

The Festival was fun. What's better than live music, all your friends and Hot springs soakin?

Traveling through Montana now. Up to some other hot springs and on to the gem show in Idaho.

Happy Trails!

It's pretty amazing how much our surroundings affect us. Actually, I'm just glad to have a break from Spokane for awhile. We were there for the better part of three weeks. I enjoy visiting the friends and family we have there, but am always glad to leave the billboards, gray cement vibe behind. We're in Montana now, which is pretty beautiful and mountainous. I plan on going foraging for nettles later today.

We did a fun little flea market last weekend. Olivia started a worm farm in an old salad container. . . which seemed pretty low maintenance. Until the two-year-old discovered it. Until I realized Olivia had been "watering" the worms. Until it started to stink. Until the other  kids wanted a worm too. And their parents didn't appreciate me sending them home with paper cups complete with stinky wet dirt, a worm, and the carefully chosen name of the worm handwritten on the outside of the cup. 

So worm farm was fun. . . for a couple days. I kept getting all their names mixed up.

We've got some beautiful new findings (the stuff you use to make jewelry that isn't beads). And some really beautiful kyanite beads, pendants and specimens. What's really special is the yew wood earrings I've been making. If there's any left after this weekend, I'll have to post a picture so you can see.  Even more beautiful than the earrings is the symbology behind the yew wood itself.  

See you at Lolo Hot Springs this weekend.

B

I started another blog today. So, for all of you who already know me; I apologize for the lengthy introduction found below. Although you still might enjoy it.

Also a picture of the beads I've been busy making:



An Introduction:

Thanks for such a time at the One Family Gathering. Really enjoyed the main stage music: Baby Gramps, Now is all you have (www.NIAYH.com) and the elvolutionaries circus group and Maha Devi design clothing. I, in general, have a vintage clothing fetish and shy away from new items. . .but this design, material, cut is amazing- www.mahadevidesign.com.

We stopped on the way to another festival  to do some business at one of our favorite bead stores. The owner told us the most interesting story. She moved to this particular area in the 70's, alone with only her car and some buckskin. This area is on the edge of a large reservation and even today the town has clashing politics between the varied populations. SO. . .she sat under a tree trying to sell moccasins off of a card table. For weeks. Without anyone from the REZ stopping to say hello or howdy. After a month she said "A carload of really old scary lookin indian women pulled up and said; 'How come you won't go away?'"

She told them she had no where else to go. They replied "If you're gonna stay, you can't be making white man moccasins. You can learn how to make real moccasins. W'ell show you. But you have to tell us where you get your buckskin."

She didn't know it at the time, but her mocassins were one fifth the price of everyone elses moccasins. In the whole country! So, she was named *Girl Who Has Hides, taken in and shown how to make real moccasins. Today she has a very successful bead store.


*Names changed

I love little stories like this. And this: A wonderful lady whom I share many friends with switched doctors a while ago. She had been (is still) living with breast cancer for ten years. The Doc put his hand on her knee, looked into her eyes and said "I will prescribe you the strongest pain meds you need. This is fatal."

She laughed, looked at him and said: "Honey- life is fatal!" 

So. . .onward blistered shoulders. When you see in color, feel in color, live in color. . .pain and suffering still exist but somehow become more of a peripheral vision, and less of a focus. Whatever you focus on expands. Just ask Ruthie.hehe.


Have a beautiful day. . .night. . .week. . .life.

What a lovely festival!  Good music, food. . .Let's see. . .Sometimes it's difficult to know where to start when you've changed so much in 18 hours. . .you look back on who you were before the experience and your vision tunnels off into irrelevant darkness. At least that's how I feel just about every 18 hours. Not a specific experience here, just the ordinary passing of time. But, as always, today is the best day of my life and tomorrow will be even better. Try saying that every day for a year. . .strange and wonderful things start to happen. . .

If I were in the Santa Barbara Area, I wouldn't miss the Lightning in a bottle festival. Somebody down there. . .go in my place, OK? Tell me how wonderful it is. It looks like a fairy tail come to life and all the characters are dressed up to fit any part they please.

In case you were wondering about The Pink Bus's official stance on Oprah. . .We don't feel she's a false prophet rising up to confuse Jesus' followers at the beginning of the "End Times". Can you believe people ask me this kind of shist? If everyone were just busying themselves with taking care of their own basic necessities, we wouldn't have time for conflict. . .I swear. Patrick says "Camping is a full-time job". We think everyone should cook all their own food, clean up and fix something broken-just for a day. Throw watching a couple of wild children in there too, or a neighbors dog. .  .something alive and animate with the capability of unexpectedly changing your schedule. It's good to be flexible and live in a conscious way that doesn't exploit other peoples labor for your own convenience. Believe me, it sounds pretty straight forward, but it gets complicated fairly quickly.

Breathing is good. Watching sunsets. Picking wildflowers. Turning off your brain long enough to feel the infinity of the stars. . .

As it turns out, being spring and all. . .the solitary heron mentioned below has a girlfriend. And I found the camera jammed in the back of a shelf.

Just in case you were wondering.

Well, I went snowboarding yesterday. One thing snow is good for: hiding things. It hid my camera from me. It's still hiding my camera from me. So, no pictures for awhile. 

Its probably a good thing because I was starting to become one of those people whose like "Oh, this is so beautiful- grab the camera!". There's something about taking pictures that, while appreciating the moment as an observer, sucks you out of the moment. I witnessed this recently at a little kids birthday party. The little girl was blowing all the candles out on her cake - but no one saw it except me! Everyone else was busy documenting it through their camera's lense for later enjoyment. How is it that we as a society can continually fool ourselves out of the satisfaction of just being, being in the present and enjoying it- for later satisfaction that may never arrive. I'm not preaching hedonism for everyone here or anything, just noticing that it's nice not to notice so much and just BE. Allowing yourself to be part of a moment, even if at that moment you're just. . .taking the trash out, gives so much more inspiration to life. Rather than the perpetual observer you allow yourself to become a perpetual participant.

The lake is covered in snow. Pink fluffly clouds kiss every darkened mountain top, the sun breaks through in glorious golden beams. A Blue Heron Lands in my sunset panorama. A gray blotch on white. It begins to snow. Soon, I have to squint to see the heron at all. The snow doesn't bother him, or her.(I don't think it does, well. . . actually, I thought about throwing it some smoked salmon, cause he/she seemed awfully solitary and kinda hungry. But after consulting "Blue Heron Habitat" on Google I decided it would be alright for awhile) The blue heron, the pink bus. Both went north a little early. Both weren't expecting so much snow. But we're both in it, and we're part of it now.

 

Looking forward to the Moscow, ID Hempfest on April 19th. We have all kinds of cool new treasures we think you'll like too.

 

Well, I went snowboarding yesterday. One thing snow is good for: hiding things. It hid my camera from me. It's still hiding my camera from me. So, no pictures for awhile. 

Its probably a good thing because I was starting to become one of those people whose like "Oh, this is so beautiful- grab the camera!". There's something about taking pictures that, while appreciating the moment as an observer, sucks you out of the moment. I witnessed this recently at a little kids birthday party. The little girl was blowing all the candles out on her cake - but no one saw it except me! Everyone else was busy documenting it through their camera's lense for later enjoyment. How is it that we as a society can continually fool ourselves out of the satisfaction of just being, being in the present and enjoying it- for later satisfaction that may never arrive. I'm not preaching hedonism for everyone here or anything, just noticing that it's nice not to notice so much and just BE. Allowing yourself to be part of a moment, even if at that moment you're just. . .taking the trash out, gives so much more inspiration to life. Rather than the perpetual observer you allow yourself to become a perpetual participant.

The lake is covered in snow. Pink fluffly clouds kiss every darkened mountain top, the sun breaks through in glorious golden beams. A Blue Heron Lands in my sunset panorama. A gray blotch on white. It begins to snow. Soon, I have to squint to see the heron at all. The snow doesn't bother him, or her.(I don't think it does, well. . . actually, I thought about throwing it some smoked salmon, cause he/she seemed awfully solitary and kinda hungry. But after consulting "Blue Heron Habitat" on Google I decided it would be alright for awhile) The blue heron, the pink bus. Both went north a little early. Both weren't expecting so much snow. But we're both in it, and we're part of it now.

 

Looking forward to the Moscow, ID Hempfest on April 19th. We have all kinds of cool new treasures we think you'll like too.

 

We drove and drove and drove and drove and drove. Yeah, I was noticing it seemed to be a bit cold. My suspicions were confirmed when Matt pulled into our frozen, abandoned campsite. I looked out the windshield and saw eight ice fishing cabins pushed out onto a giant frozen lake. Spring was nowhere near here. Some animals bones were laying on the snow near the bus. White on white. Twighlight shone on the horizon. The quiet was so peaceful, punctuated by coyotes yipping. I love winter. I love the mountains. I love the wilderness.

The Landscape is incredible. Prehistoric plateaus wrapped in terra cotta sweep the skyline for miles. The effect is breathtaking. I suddenly understand the shapes used so often in Navajo silver work. It mimics the relief of the Plateau, Cliff, Valley pattern that stretches here for miles. Desert Mountains reach their fingers out; the fingers of a thousand hands massaging the earth. Blue sky backs luminescent fluffly clouds. These clouds don't appear for just days, subject to a forecast; marginalized as weather events. No. These clouds have been watching over the canyons for thousands of years.


Cresting the valleys edge now. The fingers dissapear. The dirt looks red. Farmland punctuated by towers of red rocks jutting out at right angles. My toes begin to tingle. Snow is visible in the distant hills. Welcome to the Four Corners.

Hi everybody. We're in Albuquerque for a spell. Really enjoyed all the beautiful folks we met in Truth or consequences, NM. We're putting in a lot of miles right now, so it might take a while to get back to all the e-mails. But, hey. . .we drove REALLY far out into the desert today and saw:

1) 3 small pieces of Carnelian agate
2) a blacktailed jackrabbit and two antelope jack rabbits
3) lots of dirt
4) some cows
5) a guy in a uniform with a State of New Mexico decal on the side of his truck. He told us we would probably be trespassing, but that nobody would notice, and "please shut the gates".
6)and a sign that said five miles to the Spaceport


The last item was interesting, but I didn't see anything but more desert and a couple a singlewides out there.

Headed North-ish. We miss the trees.

PS. If you should ever meet us in person, the most surprising thing is that we're. . .oddly normal. Just thought I'd throw that out there in case you were expecting circus performers in striped leotards or something.