calamity B

I never thought that life could be beautiful. I didn’t think any good things were meant for me aside from giving people laughs at a night show, with me slipping out the back door before anyone could catch me in the light. What i thought doesn’t matter, what matters is that i admit that i was wrong. And i do. I admit. Hellfire and broken arms — i admit it.
I didn’t get where i am by luck. I gave in every time life got hard and i cried and i bled and i died over and over and over again, but i still went on with all those cigarette burns and piss sodden pants i was locked away for. I always said what if? I never believed a single dream to be too stupid to try.  And thats how i ended up in the BlackHills on a god damn stagecoach with the love of my life. Pulled by a sweet pair of Haflingers called Tuff and Tea.
If i had given up all those times that i thought the world did not belong to me, well i’ll go on and say what you’re not supposed to, the world would’ve been mighty poor with me six feet deep. A lot of kids in bad schools would’ve had to take their own beatings, cause i wouldn’t have been there to stand in for ’em while they ran to some place safe.
I’m good at a lot of things, and i’m bad at a couple, but lately i’ve been trying real hard to find out what it is to be me and living on every edge of the American frontier. Only now, the first day of the rest of my tomorrows, do i know that i’ll do it all. Eventually

There’ll be no choosing this over that, calling her over him or giving up that to live like this. I can’t be one thing, i’ve tried and in my heart it don’t make no sense.
I wasn’t born for that. I’ll be the artist my mother is, the musician my father is and i’ll be the parent my stepfather showed me — the heart that a man could be.
If those days come my way. I’ll write, i’ll be the runner i wanted to be, i’ll feel it all a little harder than most but thats how you get me. I live through all those pains, bad eggs and rotten boys so others can read about it in their sun room with a cup of tea, from a dusty porch with a bloodhound at their knee or simply for myself. I sit here and i write for all of you, but the most important of my writing is that every word, letter, broken heart and bloody gape its all for me. To keep on living through hell to see the sunset in Texas. To see it all. And maybe one day, when it’s time to die, i’ll be able smile at myself and say, “holy shit, you did it. You did it all. And yet still, you’ll never find sweet tea in South Dakota girl. Thank hell for that.”

So when you think that bad thought about giving in, or letting her walk all over you or whatever the hell pain you see yourself in. Turn the fuck around and go a different way. Get out of that sad bad marriage, let go of that ugly feeling you get when you look at yourself. Flush it out like Sundays Curry and move the hell on with your life. If this cynical bastard before you can do that — there ain’t nobody who can’t. Be you. Be selfish. Be good. Be human. So you did a few bad things — its ok they’re only mistakes. And help change the world.

Where words fail.
Words fail.

our travelling days

Well, we’re coming to the end of our life in Wyoming. Our travelling days toward a brighter tomorrow are taking one last trek along the American frontier. Down to the deep South where it all began like a midsummer nights dream of lovers and fairytales and foolish fools. With our bundles packed and LeDoux in tow we’re making our way home. To Texas. The God Of All Places. Truly.  I’m sad to see Wyoming go, but i’m proud to say i lived here and that i love the state. Forever i will. 

 But life is too damn short for long winters and 9 months of hermitting beneath blankets by a tiny nordic stove. Besides, I’m ready to settle on down and build a homestead with corals, barns and film sets. Horses galore and rescued burros. Im ready to live writing and making short films for the end of time, rescuing critters and driving around in new trucks. 

I will miss the cactus in the deserted plains of Laramie valley, the antelope prancing on the plains and the wild mustangs — how dear to me they are. Of course. I had hoped that Wyoming would be it, but whenever im away from Texas something is nagging at me. 

 I’ll miss the vistas and remember them fondly. And i shall forever be mad that i missed my chance at getting a good close up photo of a moose and that i never did see those grizzly bastards with the mean dispositions. There are many things i didn’t see that i wanted to, mostly because the winters are so harsh meaning we have only really had a month or two so far that hasn’t been snowing. South Pass city (the one i’m most bummed about not seeing), Jackson hole, the hole in wall, Grand Tetons and Yellowstone are for another time. Another go, maybe another life if thats how it all looks. Thats alright. Im learning to let the world go a little. 

We’ll return to Wyoming one day and what i did experience i am grateful for. I don’t believe i would’ve ever finished my novel in New England, and when i lived in Texas i was in a much younger mindset than i am today. That girl up there is still a dumb toddler but now she’s a little more devilish and easy. I found the place i gotta go, and now im going. For good. Thank you for the memories Wyoming, and im sorry to cut our little love affair short. But when the Lone Star State calls — you gotta go. 

jlit

the big horns



I believe that the world owes nothing. No debt to pay or government to over throw. The earth will keep on keeping on long after I’ve kicked the bucket. Same as you. The big horn mountains will still stand. The ridges may be different, but they’ll be there. Out by a fire in the middle of no place where the space is vast and full of opportunity. That’s where I go. When I’m done I move on. Carrying what little I have to my chest close as kittens. Mostly photographs, writing, old books handed to me by my grandfather and that’s all — aside from memories.
I live in my own world, because that’s where its safe. Everyone is equal there and left to themselves. It’s quiet. Smells nice to boot. Fresh grass along the streams. The desert has its time to sing. There’s nothing to worry on, except what I concoct over a fire after midnight myself. But its free. I am grateful for my chance. I don’t rub it nowhere. I don’t regret. I don’t forget. I belong where the western winds blow. I belong under the skies so deep and clear that I could paint my hearts true conviction for beating.
And all this time I’ve wondered why I wasn’t like everyone else. Why I carry a burden the way I do and now I know. It is those who suffer and keep suffering that will always, somehow, find a way to survive. Then one day, when I’m old and dying by my fire, perhaps some young good looking kids will sit by me and ask. “You’re a long way from home ma’am. How did you come to America all those years ago?” And I’ll look into my fire and smile.

the western imposter

Hello everyone!
It’s another Monday night, and another day closer to the weekend. Boy i started counting down Sunday night. You bet i did.
Tonight i was supposed to go to the horse rescue but it showed to be far too cold to do anything, so only the feeders went out there this evening. I really wanted to go out there to get to know everyone more and to get over my anxiety a little. The more often i go the quicker that feeling subsides and i can feel like i can get more deeply involved. When i get anxious i stand in my own way, for example i wont go ahead and do something i know how to do unless i’m told. I’ll let someone show me how to do something even if i already know how to do it. See what i’m saying? Then later that’ll piss me off that i didn’t just go ahead and do it in the first place.
Nevertheless I’ll be going back on Wednesday to film some riding and lunging for an adoption video, maybe take a few pictures too. I haven’t brought the big camera out there yet but i look forward to the results. Hopefully i’ll be doing some lunging with Isabella Bird (27 year old thoroughbred who is the sweetest). I’d love to adopt her myself but i have no place to keep her — same with Prada the Arabian Princess. They are such sweethearts.
But if we’re moving again, which we most likely will, it’s just not possible for me to get a horse right now.
Bummer Ted.
It sucks that UW ruined Wyoming, because Wyoming is one of the most beautiful states i’ve ever seen in my life. Christ. The stuff of a little 6 years olds dreams of cowboys and campfires and wild horses.

Isabella Bird, named after the British explorer i believe.

It’s been a good 15 years or more since i lunged a horse, so you can bet your arse im out of practice. I also haven’t worked at barn for a year and a half now. It’s incredibly frustrating to stand in your own way, and i battle and beat my head against it daily. So even though all this socialising stresses me and worries me, i really love the company so far. Easy people to get a long with and they really want the best for the equines they care for. Not to mention that they seem more than happy to let me “in.” I kinda already feel like part of the group though i’m not as educated in the nature of horses as they are. I’m an actor after all, not an equestrian. But what more could you want from new experiences?  I think i’m pretty bad ass for going against my own insecurities and telling them to go to hell. I might be a lone bear who likes the company of crickets, but this time i found folks i like.

Barn cat black with no boundaries.

I had my first real “shift” so to speak on Saturday, and it was a great day with good company. I felt a little unsteady at first but i think given some time i’ll soon get back into the swing. Because we keep moving, as soon as i get settled in a place, it all goes down the drain then i have to start over again. And thanks to UW i’m sure it’ll happen at least one more time. However, i will say when we go out on adventures or i go to this place — it makes it easier to deal with the mundane weekdays that drain life outta me, not completely —– but some. Also — i love this damn cat. Holy crap.

Happy Jack Road

Sometimes i feel like an imposter walking around in boots & cowboy hats, with a laconic state of mind, being so foreign and trying to hustle in with the real cowkids and western girls on horse back, but they really make me feel welcome at this new place, which is totally new to me. Exciting stuff.
Anyway i filmed a few clips and will be making a video of my first day there which i can’t wait to share with you. Yesterday we also took a trip to Cheyenne where i filmed all day for the fun of it. I think it’ll be “A day in Wyoming” type of video but we’ll see how that goes with time and all.

The Western Imposter

My dad might not be from Tennessee, my step father doesn’t sing the ballads in a dive bar and my mother isn’t some Southern woman who taught me to be the perfect pioneer wife. I’m just a lost little kid walking around this big world trying everything life has to give me. Missing all those i left behind in sad and bad and pretty home places. Finding my way through fields and mountains and plains and state to state to state. I get a little closer as it goes, but i know the feeling of being an imposter may haunt me a good long year or two yet. If you look at me now though, sitting on this here rock and thinking over all the places i’ve seen and the one guy that showed me what love was like?

I don’t have that much to complain about.
Happy Monday — see you again soon.

our first month

We’ve officially been here a month as of last week, and it’s already been one hell of a ride.
It’s been wonderful. Scary. Stressful x 10. Hard. Exhausting. But we’re here and we’re making it work. Many things have  happened already.
So in it’s honour — the anniversary of yet another big adventure —  here is a minefield of pictures from our first month back in the West.